Grandmother's Opera Ghost
by Hot4Gerry
Summary: A wily grandmother, an ambitious and successful granddaughter mixed with one Opera Ghost, shake well and let the adventure begin. Fun and romance will abound amid a bit of intrigue. Come inside for a bit of fun and romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Jackson Palmenter married Lillian Graves/Lillian Palmenter (60)**

**Had daughter Georgina who married Magnus Stern. Georgina and Magnus Stern deceased. **

**Tamara (I like to pronounce it Tam uh rah) Stern/23 daughter of Magnus and Georgina**

**Rutherford Taylor-Lillian's lawyer Henry (Rutherford's father/deceased)**

**David Carmichael/Tamara's assistant/Lauren Michaels David's fiancée **

**Grandmother's Opera Ghost **

**Chapter One**

**Setting the Stage**

When she had awoken this morning nothing had indicated that today would be a day that set in motion things that would take her life in a direction she had not hitherto seen coming. Tamara Stern a lovely young woman of above average intelligence and possessing a tender heart she kept well hidden, readied herself for the day ahead without any hint of any monumental changes about to occur in her life.

Dressing in an attractive trim lined suit of grey, she stepped out onto the pavement in front of her house not doubting the cab would be there as it always was. A well ordered life was something she demanded now that she had control of things around her and had put nonsensical ideas of what life was behind her. Being well ordered and intelligent did not mean she was not open to advances from young men or that she did not crave the same life that other women wanted, marriage, children, and love. Not necessarily in that order but she did want those things despite being a successful business woman at least privately. Everyone knew she was the power behind the business but let Tamara let her assistant, David Carmichael take the credit officially for the increase in revenue due to wise purchases on the stock market as well as private enterprise.

When she stepped into her office the first thing Tamara heard from David was that a request for her presence in the office of Rutherford Taylor had been requested. The note sent round had stated the utmost urgency prompted the request. The last part she thought had been added lest she consider ignoring the note. Any hint that the visit would be social and Tamara would not hesitate to deny him a second of her time. Rutherford knew this all too well so Tamara could only think this must have something to do with her grandmother. For him to request her personally did not bode well. Knowing how freehanded her grandmother had always been with her money she surmised there had been some entanglement about an expenditure Grandmother Lily had wanted to make. Rutherford couldn't deny releasing funding but he could make it difficult for her grandmother.

There were times when Tamara thought her Grandfather Magnus should have made stricter guidelines in his will concerning overseeing the estate. His trust in Rutherford's father had been well placed but the same could not be said for the son. He had wanted Lillian to have say in how her money was to be spent. Trust in her grandmother's judgment and his love for her had led him to make no real stipulation on her expenditures. As far as Tamara knew her grandmother had not ever taken any advice concerning where she placed her funds. Even her own granddaughter held no sway over any decision concerning money matters.

Not knowing a drastic change in her circumstances was about to occur, Tamara hailed a cab then traveled across town with a little bit of trepidation for what she might hear. In the past her grandmother had been less than a sound judge of character in those she dealt with daily or with business dealings in any sense. Lillian's philosophy had always been give to others and it will be returned a thousand fold. A little naïve in Tamara's opinion but a sweet outlook to have if one were in the position to live in that manner.

Rutherford had been waiting in the foray of his office building pacing back and forth. He had dismissed his assistant as he wished to greet Tamara personally. He could hardly keep his anticipation in check for what the next few minutes would reveal to this overly confident woman who rejected his advances on a regular basis. He would soon have the last laugh and perhaps Miss High and Mighty Tamara Stern groveling at his feet begging for a handout. That brought an evil glint to his eye and an insincere smile to his lips. He took pleasure in other's pain and held no kind regard for anyone he considered beneath his social status.

When Tamara arrived Rutherford felt his inside roil with anger to see her wearing her customary gloves whenever there would be any chance of them meeting. Being denied the opportunity to feel her flesh against his own made it all the more desirable to feel with his lips or even the palm of his hand. He felt pathetic to want such a small gesture from her when she wanted not to even be in his presence at all. He kept promising himself that one day he would have her under his thumb and make her pay. He did not know how this would come about exactly but he did have an idea what he wished would happen.

Once behind closed doors in his office he made short work about informing Tamara just what lunacy her grandmother had committed this time. He could have stopped this latest endeavor with a few well chosen legal maneuvers but it had fit better into his plan to let the disaster that would surely come happen of its own accord.

Tamara sat across the long expanse of desktop looking on in disbelief as her grandmother's lawyer, Rutherford Taylor, informed her of her grandmother's recent lack in judgment. Never really liking this man he now took on the persona of the devil incarnate. Really she couldn't blame him entirely for her grandmother's present predicament but in the past she and Rutherford's father had an understanding that if Lillian came close to beggaring herself steps would be taken to curtail her current spending. With his father's passing Rutherford had become the executor of her grandfather's estate taking over for his father.

Giving money to everyone who presented themselves as a lost soul had been a bone of contention between granddaughter and grandmother. Tamara did not mind helping where help had been needed but many who came to her grandmother had been charlatans. Her grandmother lacked judgment when it came to those who presented themselves as the downtrodden. It never occurred to her that some people lie about that just to remove funds from those who have the money to give.

Not needing the funds, Tamara did not object to her grandmother, Lillian Palmenter, spending her own money as she pleased, within reason. The last few years Grandmother Lily had been going through the funds left to her by her husband Jackson Palmenter, as if there would be no end.

She had still had enough to live comfortably until this last fiasco. What had possessed her grandmother to do something so ridiculous as to purchase an opera house sight unseen? To make matters worse it was located in Paris, France and rumored to have been haunted by a ghost or a man pretending to be a ghost. The lunatic had nearly destroyed the place when he cut loose the chandelier during a performance with a packed house of patrons attending.

Rutherford wore the smug look that Tamara always wanted to wipe off his face with a well placed slap. Propriety and good manners forbade her from exercising any such wish but her imagination could be very fertile at times.

It had not escaped her notice that for some odd reason Rutherford had it in his head that he would pursue Tamara romantically. Thus far she had been able to avoid any intimate moments by making sure her grandmother or others had always been near when she felt that a meeting with the dratted man seemed a possibility. His presence at several functions had curtailed Tamara's own enjoyment as she had to play cat and mouse all evening in order to avoid having to accept an invitation to dance. Her skin crawled just thinking about him touching her in any other way than the customary handshake. Knowing Rutherford would take that opportunity to place a kiss on her hand she always made sure she wore gloves when seeking his council at his office. In public she did her best to make herself scarce to avoid him. That did make it hard to find partners during social gatherings which added to the man's long list of reasons for disliking him.

The self-satisfied grin pasted on Rutherford sallow faced and squint-eyed look removed any doubt in her mind that the initial impression she had of him still remained her best decision in terms of his character or rather lack thereof. It galled her that this man was privy to so much information about her family and her grandmother in particular.

From the beginning Tamara had disliked Rutherford when his father had introduced them. He had looked oily and not just his hair. His look of dishonesty brought forth the reminder that she had meant to ask about the years past finances concerning her grandmother. It had been a while since Tamara had taken a look at her grandmother's portfolio. Even with spending an exorbitant amount on that ill judged purchase of an opera house there should still be a substantial fortune remaining. Contradictorily Rutherford had stated there was only a pittance remaining. She would make getting to the bottom of this her first priority. Her own investments would be safe in the hands of her assistant for a while. Tamara smelled a rat and not of the four legged variety.

With seeming calm Rutherford eyed Tamara as if she were a delicious delicacy set before him to savor at his leisure. What he wouldn't give to knock her down a peg or two. Her family may have wealth but his family had both wealth and good standing among the elite. Just one word from him could open many doors for a young woman looking to advance her position among the upper social stratus.

If he had not been dipping his hand in the till he would say to hell with her. She had already mentioned the files once. Knowing her bulldog attitude he doubted she would forget or change her mind about taking a long look over every minute detail. If only Lillian had not been so stupid as to purchase that damn opera house things could have gone on a bit longer. Now he would have to do some fancy footwork to cover his criminal activities. It galled him that his father had left him with a miserly monthly allotment of funds. For some commoner who cared nothing for the finer things in life perhaps the paltry sum would have sufficed but keeping up a lifestyle he enjoyed immensely had become more than his pocket could cover.

It would not do to let things slip into mere adequate necessities. Once the vultures among the snobbish crowd smelled blood in the water they moved in for the kill. He'd not be made a laughing stock by a mere woman. One way or another he would have Tamara as his wife. Once they were joined in holy matrimony only then could he let his true feelings about her shine threw. He had never hated anyone before but could honestly say what he felt toward Tamara felt like hate.

Never would he admit to himself that he had always been extremely jealous of her. His father had always spoken of her as if she were some beacon of shining light with all the correct virtues while his own son only earned a mediocre well done once in a while and halfheartedly spoken at best. He would have her then discard her in some very public and cruel way. Just imaging such a thing brought a tightlipped smile to his mouth. The smile did not reach his eyes. What glowed in those dark brown nearly black eyes was an emotion far removed from any Tamara had received from anyone in her life. Luckily for Rutherford Tamara's attention had been more on the contract for the sale of L'Opéra Populaire than on anything to do with him.

Bidding Rutherford a farewell with a reminder to gather all the paperwork detailing the Palmenter estate business, she took her leave of him. She didn't breathe properly until she reached the street outside the office building. Even the noise of people, horses and the trolley mixed with all manner of smells felt better than being cloistered in an office with that oily, cold-blooded snake Rutherford.

Absently Tamara rubbed the back of her gloved hand along her skirt. She wanted to wipe away any remainder of the man from her person and her memory. Now that her senses were clear of any smell emanating from Rutherford she could think better. What the dark look he had given her as she asked for all the financial papers had been about she had no clue or perhaps she did. It did make her wonder if he had been cooking the books and using those funds as if they were his own. It had been years since she had felt any need to take a look at the financial statements. Trust in the father did not extend to the son.

Hailing a cab Tamara gave her home address. She may as well go home as the afternoon spent with such disagreeable company ruined the rest of the day for her. Her Grandmother Lily had gone out of town visiting some friends so would not be at home this evening. Perhaps some time between learning of her grandmother's latest grandiose spending and facing her with questions would temper Tamara's approach to the older woman. Never would Tamara make the mistake of thinking her grandmother a frail and helpless woman. She may have a kind heart that got her into difficulties but frailty was not among Lillian's faults.

Having a sudden impulse to investigate Tamara called to the driver to take her to the London Gazette instead. They must surely have some headlines concerning a famous place such as L'Opéra Populaire. Even Tamara had heard of it. A niggle at the back of her mind told her that something recent had been making the gossip circuit among partygoers this last year or so. Something about an unrequited love taking a nasty turn. It would seem more than some madman claiming ownership had plagued the opera house.

It would be just like her grandmother to fall for a tragic love story. Romance had always been one of her greatest downfalls. Usually it concerned matchmaking between some unsuspecting man and Tamara. Countless times her grandmother had stepped in to maneuver her granddaughter and some young man into meeting at a party or dance. Meaning well had been the only thing saving Lillian from a sound tongue lashing from Tamara.

The editor had been all too happy to oblige a pretty young woman especially since she owned a large portion of the stock in the paper and publishing company. In a word the lady in question could have him removed from his job if the notion struck her. Tamara wouldn't use her power in that way just because of some slight against her. It wouldn't do to let all and sundry no that though. She always presented a rather all business attitude with those whose lives she could control on a business level.

Once she returned home the bundle of papers did cause the maid's brows to raise but no comment had been made. Shutting herself in her room Tamara removed as much of her constricting clothing so she could relax as she read through the newspapers. Striping down to only her bloomers and camisole she grabbed the top paper then dropped carelessly across her bed. Lounging in this manner had become a pleasant habit when her grandmother was not at home.

She had let the maid know to bring her dinner up to her room. When alone she liked to lounge in her room and eat her meals. The dreaded corset and pounds of underskirts could be tossed and forgotten in privacy. No one even knew that Tamara indulged herself by sleeping in the nude. Her grandmother would have a stroke but then again maybe not as her grandmother had been a little risqué in her younger days and still could shock her friends with some of the things she did or said.

Soon her reading became more than an interest to find out about the opera house and became more a search to make discoveries about the man. Over and over she returned to the article that had been accompanied by a drawing of the man reported as being the culprit who had committed the crime of murder and mayhem at L'Opéra Populaire. Without even knowing she did so Tamara traced along his strong jaw line. She couldn't tell what color his eyes were or the shade of his hair but something about him called to her.

The description said his hair did not cover the whole of his head. It was much thinner on the right side but not completely bald. The right side of his face had a horrible deformity that contrasted dramatically with the perfection of the left side. Beauty and beast the artist had been quoted when asked for a comment. He had been among the attendees of the performance and had given quite an extensive description of the man's face, body and voice.

Many had made the same comment about the man having the crowd under his spell until he cut loose the chandelier. Clearly the man had not been Senor Ubaldo, Umbaldo… Too lazy to look the man's name up she settled for just his sir name of Piangi. Whispers had said to have been quickly spreading during the middle of the scene of seduction between what was supposed to be the Italian tenor and Mademoiselle Daaé, that the person who stepped out from behind the curtain the second time was not Piangi singing with such enchanting musical tones. They had thought a new talent had been making a debut much as Mademoiselle Daaé had debuted earlier.

Strangely, there had been little written using quotes from the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny or his fiancée, Mademoiselle Daaé in any of the many articles. It had been left to conjecture what had happened to the man being blamed for all the destruction. A Madame Antoinette Giry had been said to be the liaison of this phantom and the owner/managers of the opera house. It had been by her hand that many of the envelopes had been delivered containing demands for payment and directions about how the opera house should be run.

According to other reports the woman had lost more than her employment that night. For years she had kept the man hidden. Looking at his youthful appearance Tamara assumed he must have been a mere boy at that time. Madame Giry gave a few details but not many. She told enough of his dreadful past to garner sympathy among the commoners. Even a few of the noble class had been very vocal about the poor soul's ostracizing from the world and the ill-treatment he had received. Others took the stand that ones harsh circumstances did not give one liberty to murder, extort and burn down a building belonging to others just to win the hand of the object of his affections.

Again and again Tamara found herself picking up the paper with the picture of this unknown genius. Fantasies whirled through her mind. Speculating about the color of his hair and eyes had her snuggling down into the pillows as she shut her eyes the better to free up her inner eye. The man from the paper took form in her mind and what a form he was too.

Tall, broad of shoulder, dark brownish hair, the eyes, ah yes, the eyes. She vacillated between light blue and piercing green. His lips, oh how she imagined them tasting upon her own. Not for him the oily hair or strange body odor. He smelled entirely masculine and seductive.

His voice would be smooth and silky with just a touch of a rumble when aroused. His hands were broad with long musician's fingers. They played along her skin with an accuracy that left her breathless. Oh my, the things he did with those wonderful hands and luscious mouth. He would kiss his way down her body causing heat wherever he placed a hot salutation with his mouth. His hands would leave a trail of wanton longings behind.

Sensing her desperate arousal he would climb back up to align his body with hers then…

Jolting upright in bed Tamara pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. Her bosom rose up and down in agitation. Lord have mercy, she had never been so vivid during one of her fantasies. Lack of experience had always kept her from going very far as she did not know what would come next. Being an adult of course she had knowledge of the mechanics of lovemaking but no actual experience to draw on.

Feeling embarrassed without any real cause, she scampered off the bed gathering all the papers to deposit them on the chair beside the bed. Deciding that was not a safe enough distance she took them to her wardrobe to place them on the topmost shelf. Gratefully she heard the knock at her door indicating her dinner had arrived. This would give her something else to focus on other than that attractive looking face that had stared at her as if he could see into her very heart and mind. If just his image could do that what would the man do to her if she were to come face to face with him?

Convinced out of site meant out of mind she enjoyed her perfectly prepared dinner, took a long relaxing bath then crawled into bed. If she thought her night would be dreamless she soon learned just how wrong she had been. The phantom she had read about became a phantom lover in her dreams and what a lover he was.

**A/N: So yeah or nay? Any suggestions**?


	2. Chapter 2

**Jackson Palmenter married Lillian Graves/Lillian Palmenter (60)**

**Had daughter Georgina who married Magnus Stern. Georgina and Magnus Stern deceased. **

**Tamara (I like to pronounce it Tam uh rah) Stern/23 daughter of Magnus and Georgina**

**Rutherford Taylor-Lillian's lawyer Henry(Rutherford's father/deceased)**

**David Carmichael/Tamara's assistant/Lauren Michaels David's fiancée **

**Chapter Two**

**Lillian Palmenter, Ghost Chaser **

Studiously Lillian kept her eyes averted from Tamara as she took her seat at the table. She had planned to return yesterday late afternoon but in the end thought it best to come home late so as to avoid any confrontation with her granddaughter. By now Tattletale Taylor had no doubt spilled the beans concerning her recent acquisition. It had puzzled her all along why Rutherford hadn't spoken to Tamara about the purchase of the opera house in France. This would be a perfect opportunity for him to wheedle his way into Tamara's good graces if such a thing were even possible.

There were times when Lillian felt slightly miffed at her late husband. He hadn't made any stipulations in his will that forbade her using funds at her own discretion but had stipulated that all major purchases or expenditures should be presented to either Henry or Rutherford Taylor. His idea at the time had been that the two men could advise her as to the validity of any business transactions. She supposed it had been her overly generous nature and lack of any business sense that had her late husband Jackson adding that clause in his will concerning consultation of the family retainers. Her dear Jackson had known what pleasure she got from making others happy while having no interest in how the money came to be in the bank.

Lillian's one regret to date, had been that she could not find Tamara an acceptable suitor. The problem she imagined had to do with Tamara's quest for control and insistence upon being on equal footing with any man she dealt with in a professional or personal manner. By purchasing the opera house in Paris Lillian thought she had purchased all rights to the resident ghost and phantom. Of course she could not own a person but she could demand the man leave unless he met her demands. Making this decision to foster some sort of relationship between her granddaughter and this man had not been something she set about willy-nilly. Many hours reading about the past events as well as corresponding with her friend had enlightened her as to what had happened that year or as well as anyone outside the circle of participants could be. That horrid Joseph Buquet had been murdered no one could dispute that but it could be argued the man had been a menace to all of womanhood underneath the opera house roof. Piangi, now his death had been a different matter. While be a pompous less than stellar tenor he had not been a bad man. It could not be determined if he had been strangled or simply frightened so badly he had a heart attack during the performance of Don Juan Triumphant. There had been a rope around his neck but an absence of ligature marks on his neck had cast doubt on whether or not he had been murdered.

It had been conjectured that this Phantom had intended to strangle Pianji but the man had died of a heart attack first. Seeing no reason to tighten the noose it had simply been left around Pianji's neck. Lillian searched deeply within herself and could not completely find justification for this act but could understand the man's driving need for love. The dear man had needed guidance and had no one to seek council from. According to everyone this Madame Giry he had been forcing to do his bidding did not have any personal interaction with the man. Isolation had likely driven the poor thing to do as he had done. If, no, when they met she would be sure to let him no that her heart and ears would always be open to him as long as he committed no more nefarious acts beyond harmless pranks. Lillian thought she might quite enjoy a prank or two.

She did not want anything for herself, no, what she wanted had to do with Tamara. Surely this ghost, phantom or whatever he wished to be called, knew how to woo a woman. That Daaé woman had nearly fallen under his spell. Half the women in Paris still spoke of him in nervous whispers while at the same time had felt his seductive pull and many confessed they still would not say no if he were to pursue them. Now all that needed to be done was to maneuver Tamara into making the trip to Paris with her.

Lillian pretended to be interested in the dishes the servants were placing near her. Annie the girl holding a teapot poured her morning tea then promptly left. She resisted the urge to call the young woman back. It was ridiculous really how nervous her own granddaughter made her. Being proud of her for her hardnosed business practices did not extend to being under Tamara's censoring eyes. Too many times she had disapproved of Lillian's ventures or the handing out of funds to all and sundry.

Obviously Tamara had either spoken to that weasel Rutherford or heard through the financial grapevine of her most recent purchase. It had not been easy keeping negotiations between just herself and the representative of the men who owned and managed the opera house.

For two cents she would move back to London and leave Rutherford's firm even if she must hire another lawyer to find some loophole in her husband's will. Sourly Lillian thought that Rutherford would like as not simply follow them back to England as it had not been his idea to move to New York. His father had not wanted to leave England but had taken being designated as overseer of his best friend's estate as a sacred charge one he would have never abandoned. Lillian had been pleased at the time that Henry had handed his London operation over to a cousin or something so he could make the journey to New York with her and Tamara. It had been less pleasant to learn his son would make the same journey.

She had an idea that Rutherford had been the one to encourage pour Henry's drinking during the ensuing years. When his father had been deeply in his cups it had been easier to manipulate Henry into giving his son advances on his allowance, an allowance that continued to remain the same even after his father's death much to Rutherford's chagrin. Briefly Lillian wondered just how Rutherford supplemented that allowance. No way could he live as he did on what Henry felt and adequate sum.

Henry would never have done half the things his son talked him into if he had been in his right mind. Over the years Lillian had butted heads with Rutherford more than once. He couldn't keep the funds from her but he could delay handing them over on the pretext of investigating where they were going. The only way he would have full control would be to have Lillian declared mentally incompetent. Since Lillian remained sound of mind Rutherford could only stew with frustration. Tamara could do nothing unless steps were taken to secure the estate legally. Year after year Lillian had meant to see about making out her will but to do so intimated that she acknowledged her advancing age. She did not feel ready to do that just yet.

No doubt he had nearly had a fit of some sort to learn she had purchased a property without his knowledge or approval. Dealing with the French had been easier than facing Tamara by far. Rutherford she had dismissed with little concern. He may make a few waves which while irritating they could be lived through. Nothing had been going to stop her from buying that opera house. Nothing!

Lands sakes how exciting it had been to learn it had come on the market especially since its notoriety had preceded any whisper of wanting to sell. For nearly a year Lillian had been following the tragic romance. Even before the fire she and her friend Deidre, who lived in Paris, had been corresponding concerning the mysterious activities that had been going on before, during and after performances at L'Opéra Populaire. The rumor mill had been busy churning out different tales of this ghostly phantom who had fallen in love with the sweet young soprano. To add to the drama the young woman's childhood sweetheart had made a dramatic reentrance into her life. Soon the two reunited lovers had rekindled their innocent romance into one not so innocent. Her tutor had not approved as his own affections had been aimed at this Mademoiselle Christine Daaé.

The poor man had bared his soul, done things that would jeopardize his place in heaven and all for the love of a woman. That kind of love could be either the most enduring wonderful thing or as in this case tragically leading a man to teeter on the edge of sanity then fall off into complete madness. His motives had been just but his method had been dastardly.

What Lillian planned to do was search out this supposed Phantom or Opera Ghost and offer him employment. Not having heard the man sing or speak she could not personally vouch for his seductively entrancing vocal chords but many in attendance that night had said they had never heard anyone sing with such passion or such perfect pitch. Lillian did not know one note from another and could not carry a tune in a bucket but she did know what sounded good to her ears. If the man sang and composed he would be an asset to help lead the newly refurbished L'Opéra Populaire. Once it had been the crowning glory of Parisian society and it would be again.

Glancing sideways at her granddaughter Lillian felt the urge to wiggle in her seat. For all of being sixty and Tamara only twenty and three the roles were often reversed. This game of waiting had been played many times before between the two of them. Always Lillian broke first. Nervously Lillian cast another look in Tamara's direction only to see her granddaughter calmly spreading jam on her toast as if she were not about to give her elderly grandmother a dressing down and proceed with an inquisition. The stack of newspapers beside Tamara clued Lillian into the fact that her dear granddaughter had been reading those past articles as well. Likely she knew just as much about the Phantom as Lillian did if not more.

Every little sound had her nearly jumping from her chair. It was ridiculous really. This was her granddaughter not some person from the dark ages ready to conduct some torturous method of questioning. Never would Tamara do anything to cause her grandmother any real harm but she had perfected making her feel like a misbehaving child.

She knew Tamara would not approve of this latest venture but darn it the money belonged to her. It wasn't as if Tamara would starve without those few hundred thousand francs, near a million actually. Put in terms of cash the amount did sound alarming. This new venture would pay for itself monetarily for sure, but the real payoff would be finding the elusive Phantom. Such a devil yet from all accounts seductive at the same time.

Who better to bring Tamara to the realization she was a woman and not a money making machine? She had been making attempts to draw the younger men's attention in the last few months but what could those feebleminded young men give to her? Within a month with them she'd be pulling her hair out due to boredom. Now with someone as devilishly clever like the Phantom she would never grow bored. He would give as good as he got and vice versa.

Those men had only chasing women or impressing their peers on their minds, not winning a bright young woman with a very agile mind and an aptitude for making money. Growing up among the pampered set they were weak of character for the most part. Perhaps she shouldn't lump them all together or pass judgment so hastily but thus far none of the young men coming to pay a visit to Tamara had impressed Lillian in the least and surely had not peeked Tamara's interest either. Upon reflection those men had not come to court Tamara per se. All of them had some business dealings with her and in the end business matters had all that had been the topic of discussion during all those boring evenings.

This man from the opera house had a few faults they would need to work on but in her heart of hearts Lillian believed this was meant to be. Why else had her interest been perked by the sad tale of a man she did not know and continue even when his character had been proven to be questionable? Something about him would not let Lillian rest until she had found him and gotten to know him.

Since leaving school all Tamara had in her life it seemed was business. Leading the life Tamara and her mother had lived Lillian could not help but think they had both missed a lot.

Lillian had been very impressed with Tamara's father when he came to court her daughter Georgina. He may not have come from a titled background but he had continued to build the shipping business his own father had begun many years ago. It had only concerned Lillian when she learned Magnus planned on living aboard ship for a while after he and Georgina were married.

The traveling part did not bother her so much as the fact that her daughter would be away for long periods of time. Then Tamara had come along. Lillian had missed so much of Tamara's childhood. She hadn't begrudged them their experiences at all. It had been the fact that they only saw one another two or three times a year when they came to London. If she wouldn't have felt as if she were intruding she would have asked to go with them on their grand adventures. Lillian had been a landlocked lover of the sea or more precisely a lover of excitement. The world had seemed to be filled with endless possibilities to her. Having married as a good daughter should her life had not permitted her to fulfill any of her dreams for exploring the wonders of the world. Her daughter, Georgina had lived that dream and then her granddaughter had continued it, at least until her parents had died. All the love of the unknown had drained right out of Tamara once her parents were gone.

She had only gone along with all those trips they had taken at Lillian's insistence to please an old lady she cared deeply about. Lillian had not begrudged her granddaughter wanting a normal life just when she herself had been ready to take on the world. Tamara had gone along with her grandmother's wanderlust just to please the older woman. When it became apparent Tamara had not been happy for some time Lillian pushed her dreams away of conquering the world.

Tamara had not fit in at first due to a lacking of any proper teaching about such things aboard ship or on the various islands her parents had called home.

Georgina had always been somewhat of a rebel. She flaunted society's demands with a careless disregard for what those old biddies had thought of her. Lillian did not know where her daughter had gotten the backbone to stand up to everyone. Lillian had wanted to be a rebel in her earlier years but had lacked the courage to do anything about it at the time. The only risqué thing she had done had been to marry her husband, an unknown among the upper echelon of society but having a goodly amount of wealth.

Her father had not wanted his daughter to marry a pauper who had a title and little else. Lillian had been lucky to fall in love with a rich man. He had wanted her to travel with him but she had not wanted to cause any dissent with her father. He wanted his daughter to hold her place among society so he could hold his as well. It had been selfish of her father but Lillian had been the weak one to go along with her father's wishes.

Lillian felt certain all of her recent rebellious acts were due to being held back as if chained. Once she felt free of all those restraints she had wanted to travel the world and experience everything. Unfortunately by the time she had been free to bounce around the world her granddaughter had decided she had had enough of it and wanted to settle down.

To compensate for having her wings clipped Lillian had begun living the life of excitement through others. Precariously she had lived through others the life she herself had been denied. If they went away with much of her coins in their pockets she had considered it a fair repayment for the few weeks living on the edge.

Tamara wiped her mouth then spoke calmly and in a subdued voice, "Grandmother, about this opera…"

"Oh dear I need more tea. This pot has gone cold." Lillian rang the little bell beside her plate that would summon Annie. Annie looked askance at her mistress for the pot retained much of its heat. She had to pick it up with a potholder. Lillian smiled apologetically shrugging her shoulders.

Lillian had been about to claim her eggs had gone cold as well when Tamara forestalled her claim. "Grandmother I will have this discussion with you whether you return every item on the table or not. This is important. You have gone too far this time.

Are you aware how much you have depleted your account? What did you plan to use for living expenses and the running of the opera house? Salaries must be paid. I have researched this opera house thoroughly in the short time I have had to prepare for our discussion. As far as I can tell no salaries have been paid in several months. The bills for the repairs have not been paid. Demands are being made from all the suppliers to the opera house. The only solution is to hope another foolish person comes along to take the place off your hands."

Tamara felt guilt seep into her as she saw the hurt enter her grandmother's eyes. Hurting her grandmother had been the farthest thing from her mind. Her only intention had been to force her grandmother into seeing things from a business angle instead of some romantic dream. Stoically Tamara tamped down any memory of those very vivid dreams she had last night of that mysterious man who had gone from the drawing in the paper to a masked black caped marauder steeling her off into the unknown doing things she only had done to her in her dreams.

"Oh, well, if…if things are that bad perhaps you are right. I am just a silly old woman. What I had thought I would do with such a huge responsibility I have no idea. Me, a woman alone, with no experience, how would I ever have managed? Yes, I can see the error I made. Women are not meant to run things as men are. I have no skills to speak of or any practical knowledge about anything concerning business. Maybe Rutherford is right after all and I am becoming senile. He has generously offered to take full control of everything if I feel overwhelmed."

Knowing any mention of Rutherford would raise Tamara's hackles, Lillian used her granddaughter's animosity against Rutherford shamelessly. She assuaged any guilt with the knowledge that in the end all of this would benefit Tamara.

Dabbing at the corner of her eyes Lillian continued in a practiced subdued voice, "Perhaps some man will come along and take it from my incompetent hands." As she saw Tamara about to protest she wiped her napkin at the corner of her eye once more ostentatiously then said pitifully, "No don't protest my lack of intelligence. I know my place as all women do. You my dear are the rare exception. The rest of us are to stand in the background while the men do their business and we bare the children and keep the home fires burning."

Lillian peeked out from behind her napkin. She hoped she had not laid it on too thick. Tamara may be led at times but not pulled forcefully. Above all she held the opinion women could do what men did and most of the time could do it better.

Tamara threw her napkin on the table angrily. Her anger was not toward her grandmother it was directed at all those men who had tried to hold her back from being successful using her own talents.

"Nonsense Grandmother. A woman can do anything a man can do if given the opportunity. Why should you not manage an opera house if that is what your heart desires? Why, I would imagine money could be made hand over fist if things were managed efficiently." She paused to take a calming breath before she continued.

"At the moment I have nothing pending that needs my immediate attention. I could spend perhaps a couple of months in Paris setting things up properly. If needed back in New York I do think boats go back and forth. I have confidence in David's ability to handle things for a short time. Nothing of any importance is pending so I am fairly free of responsibilities at this time. Yes I think that is the best idea for all concerned. You run your opera house, I will make certain your investment pays off while assuring your future as well."

Tamara knew her grandmother had overplayed the helpless old lady but she had made true statements concerning men and woman competing in a man's world, this Tamara knew all too well. The mention of Rutherford had been like waiving a red flag in the face of a bull in the arena. Tamara had literally seen red. Just the man's name, Rutherford, brought her ire to white hot anger in mere seconds. It had more to do with his pompous no it all attitude more than any actual offense that had brought on Tamara's dislike of Rutherford over the years.

If her grandmother had her heart set on this then they would do it as partners. Tamara would front the operation with cash until it began to show a return on the investment. Also she would deal with any objections Rutherford may put forth. She smiled anticipatorily at the prospect of putting that man in his proper place, under her foot.

Having won Tamara's agreement Lillian began to regal her granddaughter with tales she had read of the Opera Ghost. She had felt a little surprised Tamara had already been made aware of the man's existence until her eye caught sight of that stack of newspapers. Her granddaughter did everything thoroughly or not at all. Lillian did not fail to see the tide of red flushing Tamara's cheeks but could not ascertain a reason for it when she had mentioned the man who lurked in the shadows of the opera house. Thinking back on her last few sentences it came to mind her granddaughter had been speaking rather animatedly about a man she had never met or even heard about until yesterday.

"In the papers I read they did mention that many thought the Opera Ghost or Phantom is still living within the opera house. He only waits for the reopening. Let me assure you Grandmother I will not be letting you pay some shyster a single farthing." To cover her sudden embarrassment as she recalled her vivid dreams Tamara spoke a little more forcefully than the conversation warranted.

"Franc dear. In France it would be Francs, twenty thousand a month if I remember correctly." Lillian beamed at Tamara who felt as if she had been duped by a conniving but loveable old woman. Duped willingly but duped all the same.

"Twenty thousand francs? Ridiculous! We'll not be blackmailed let me tell you right now. If he wishes to test me then let him. I am more than a match for some hermit from underneath an opera house. Promise me Grandmother Lily that you won't cave in to this man's demands. If you feel in the least frightened by him please allow me to deal with him." Tamara could feel the leap of her heart merely thinking of coming face to face with this mysterious man who had been giving her some very uncomfortable moments without having even met him.

Lillian had not wanted to inform Rutherford but Tamara had told her she must as he would be sending on some documents concerning the estate. Having gotten her way in this, Lillian felt that things could not move fast enough to suit her. She took care of the packing and travel arrangements while Tamara gathered pertinent information on L'Opéra Populaire. Tamara she knew would need to make arrangements with that nice young man David Carmichael.

Now there was a man with a rising star, handsome too. He had no prejudices about women and commerce. He worked comfortably beside Tamara. Everyone of course knew her to be the brains behind those successful investments. David made no claims to being some clairvoyant or especially clever when it came to investing. He let everyone believe what they wanted to believe. It suited both him and Tamara.

He had been enlarging his own bank account using Tamara's advice where to place his own meager funds. They had grown substantially he had told her the last time he had come to dinner. One day she and Tamara would have to meet his fiancée, Lauren Michaels. Vaguely Lillian felt regret that David and her granddaughter could not have made a match. Perhaps fate had planned a much more passionate man for Tamara.

Lillian had high hopes for this venture into the hitherto unknown world of opera. She had enjoyed a few performances, but never really cared for most of the operas she had seen. They all seemed to be filled with such tragedy, romantic but tragic. What love entered into a story had been overshadowed by all the negative emotions such as greed, jealousy, avarice, and vanity.

According to the papers the man who had taken that Daaé child had been a clever man. His voice they said had been angelic. The portion of him not disfigured those interviewed had said held true beauty.

Tamara needed a jolt to get her romantic juices going. What better way than a slightly disfigured, brooding genius? If she thought the man would do Tamara any harm never would she have bought the place or thought to visit with Tamara in tow. Many claimed it was now haunted by the real ghost of the former Opera Ghost. How ridiculous could people be? A man who had hidden himself away from the world would have made plans for a quick and safe retreat. She did not believe for one moment the man had died. One did not die from a broken heart no matter how badly one might feel. The mind, heart and body would mend in time and what better way to speed up the process than to begin a new romance?

Lillian could hardly wait to confront her very own Opera Ghost. She must ask him for a proper name. If he did not have one she would be honored to lend him her dear departed husband's name, Jackson Palmenter. She would not continue any association with a man pretending to be either a ghost or phantom, at least not to her. To watch others shivering in fear could be entertaining. Lillian wondered where this ghoulish side of her had come from. Mentally she rubbed her hands together anticipating arriving at L'Opéra Populaire within the month.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Kind of disappointed in the low number of reviews but at least this is still being read. I am going to try to post 2 chapters a week. Hopefully it will spark reviews. Wednesday, fondly known as hump day, will be one of my posting days and Sunday will be the other. As today is Sunday....well you know the drill. **

**Chapter Three**

**Ghost in Misery **

Erik sat unmoving in front of his restored organ. He need not look behind him to see the many things that had once held such meaning for him now strewn about his home in disrepair. He hadn't the heart to throw it out or sift through any of it too see if something might be salvaged. What use did he have for things? A ghost needed nothing. Once he had only masqueraded as a ghost but now he felt more akin to an apparition than to a man of flesh and bone. Grief over losing Christine had surely drained all life from him. Only when his body could stand no more deprivation did he tend to its needs. What was the point of sustaining a vessel that had lost all substance. He felt his spirit for sure had succumbed to death.

The mob had done their job well. They could not destroy him or wreak vengeance on him so they destroyed all he had possessed. He had not bothered to begin to clean up the destruction left behind. It remained as a reminder that nothing in his life would ever be permanent. Nothing he loved would remain in his possession. Not for him would their ever be someone to share his life. No, not for him would anyone wait with bated breath for his return to hearth and home.

Christine had slipped through his fingers as if he held water in his hands. Their shared passion for music had not kept her. God knows his love had not kept her by his side. She could not wait to leave him. Hanging his head Erik felt shame for lying so blatantly to himself. Christine had cared. She may even have loved him in her own way. Passion had certainly been between them. What good had their passion been in the end? Raoul had been the man she needed not the shadow of a man he had been and still was.

Christine would have stayed with him. She would have honored the bargain he had made her agree to in order to save Raoul, her handsome lover. She could not bear to see her lover put to death so she had been willing to go wherever he, the deformed Angel in Hell had wanted to take her. If not for the sacrifice of those two kisses he could have taken her and been blindly happy. Christine would have withered and died but he would have been blissfully ignorant of anything wrong in their relationship. He had always had the ability to weave a tale around his circumstances to make them more palatable. He had been deceiving himself all along that he played Christine's Angel of Music so he could teach her to sing thereby having someone to share his music and voice. He would teach her to sing and she would give a voice to the beautiful music he wrote. It had all been so much deception on his part. True enough he had wanted his music to be shared with the world but Christine had merely been his pawn toward that goal. He hadn't really cared if the world heard his music. He had always selfishly thought the world undeserving of such wondrous sounds.

This very building he lived under had not been a prison since it offered him safety from a cruel world. It had been his domain, his place of learning and creation. This had been his home, his refuge, the place where his imagination had come to life so that he could play and write the notes he had heard in his mind for as long as he could remember. It had not been an easy task to learn the notes. It had taken him many months to even begin to play rudimentary notes on an old violin he had found in a prop room. Once he had tackled that he had tried more difficult tasks. Learning to read and write had been his first order of business. At the age of ten he still held a belief there would be a place in the world for him if he could give the world the beauty of the melodies he heard all the time inside his own mind. Even having suffered rejection by his mother he believed everyone had a place that God had planned for them if they were only willing to strive to achieve it. When the Gypsies captured and forced him to perform while being beaten he had still kept a thread of that belief alive. Only when he had fallen in love with his pupil, Christine Daaé, had he begun to despair of ever having the life he wanted. Doubt had set in driving him to commit more desperate acts. As much as he wanted her to sing his music for the world he wanted her for himself more. The boy's reentrance into Christine's life had sounded a death knell to Erik's hopes and dreams had he only been willing to hear it as well as see how much Christine had loved that de Chagny boy, Raoul

Even now pain tore at him to think of Christine. A year of mourning and he still felt severe crippling despair at times. He did try to forget her but found it impossible. If he could bring himself to rid his home of all those reminders of her perhaps her memory would begin to fade. Madame Giry, or Antoinette he now called her, had urged him to let Christine's memory go. A new life could be had now that the opera would be giving performances once more. He could perhaps offer his services on a legitimate footing. Those two idiot managers had bilked some unsuspecting buyer into purchasing the opera house lock, stock, and barrel. Perhaps they should have included the resident ghost and phantom as part of the property for the specter still remained in residence.

That night self=preservation had guided every step he took. He had not gone far. Whatever hold this place had on him all those years it had still gripped him that night. With all of Paris looking for him it had been no easy task to find a safe place to hide. Much to Erik's horror all of Paris knew his shameful secret. Christine had been the first to bare him in that most of all humiliating gestures. Some Époque journalist had been a member of the audience with a clear recollection of what he had seen. An artist as well as a journalist he had rendered a fair resemblance of how Erik looked without the wig and mask then had gone on to add insult to injury by describing every detail of that night of destruction.

As hard as they tried they had not been able to find a name for the Opera Ghost other than his other alias, Phantom of the Opera. He had been careful over the years not to reveal his name to anyone. He wanted one thing that he could feel belonged strictly to him. Not even Antoinette had been privileged to know him by anything other than O.G. He had allowed her the latitude of using his initials when addressing him in a note or personally. He had considered letting her know of his name but had not at that time done so. He had since their reformed liaison given her permission to call him Erik. The grateful tears in her eyes had almost done him in. He hated that tender side of him which caused him to give way to tears whenever he felt strong emotions. His trust in her had not been completely regained after her betrayal but as she had taken the risk to reenter his domain to find him, knowing what dangers it held, he relented to that minute degree.

Antoinette had asked him why he had not heeded Meg's calls to him that night of the disaster. That dear child had tried to bring him that which she knew would be his most precious possession, his mask. He hadn't wanted to be near anyone after Christine left lest he take his anger out on an innocent. He had not known at the time the young woman calling to him had been Meg, not that it would have made a difference. Meg and Christine were the same age yet in his mind he saw Christine in a different light. Meg would forever be the tiny baby he had gone to visit when Antoinette would put her in her crib at night. She had fascinated him. Later Christine had come and once again his softer side had taken over his good sense. He had made the mistake of singing to her when she cried for her dead father. He had compounded his idiocy by letting her think him to be an angel, the Angel of Music to be precise.

Truthfully in the beginning he had simply felt validated to have someone able to sing his music and he could give her the ability to use her God-given talent. Gradually he had noticed her voice maturing. He had steadfastly ignored the blossoming of her body into womanhood. He had been successful for over three years ignoring the beautiful woman Christine had become. Over the years many women in the opera house had caught his eye. Knowing they would not have him any other way than by force he had beaten back his lustful thoughts with his passionate music. He had poured every emotion into the music he taught Christine to sing. Keeping busy had helped to a certain degree but at times he could not control his lustful thoughts or the response of his body to feminine stimulus. Always he felt shamed to have given in to that lust especially after his heart had been ensnared by Christine.

Once he had taken notice of her things began to change for him. Not in any positive way. Over time he had become possessive of Christine's time. He had forbidden her to see anyone outside the opera house. He should have included patrons of L'Opéra Populaire as well. Raoul had come to represent his parents. Once he realized it had been Christine on stage singing such glorious notes Raoul had made himself known to her. And that had been the beginning of the end for all Erik had cherished.

So deeply had he gone into his fantasy world of Christine choosing him over Raoul he had willingly killed to make it so. He had kidnapped Christine twice and set the whole opera house on fire by dropping the chandelier onto the stage during his only stage performance as well as the only performance of his opera, Don Juan Triumphant.

With the passage of time his view had cleared as to the truth of the events that night. He now realized how desperate he had been. Christine had been the first woman he could even begin to think might bear his touch. His first time to attempt touching her had been with his gloves on. What in his mind had driven him to wear gloves when he had desperately wanted to feel her warm flesh to this day he could not give himself a satisfactory answer. Perhaps he had thought he would taint her if his flesh touched her innocent skin.

Christine's removing his mask the next morning had sent him spiraling out of control. He had cursed her, shouted at her, he had even shoved her to the stone floor of his home. Even Christine had not been immune to punishment for committing the cardinal sin of taking away his shield from the world. His mask held a sacred place in his mind. Anyone else touching his mask would have died in that first instant. He had shown great restraint toward Christine. Shouting curses and shoving her angrily once had been a leniency others would never have received.

She had been truly contrite as she had handed him his mask with trembling hand while tears streaked down her cheeks. Those tears and the ones he had made her shed that final night haunted him at times. All he had done those last months they had been together had been to make her cry and fear him. If he had thought she would accept his presence he could have made contact with her. Antoinette had convinced him that would be sheer lunacy. Everyone would be put in danger if he and Raoul were to encounter one another once more.

Over the past year since his return he had not ventured above very often. He still used the Rue Scribe to exit and enter. If anyone saw a moving dark cloaked figure fear of the Phantom would keep them from looking too closely. Years ago he had taken great lengths to insure not many would brave investigating that alley even if an offer of payment were offered to venture into a place known to be a haunt of the opera house mysterious supernatural occupant.

He knew of the renovations that had taken place of course. Antoinette had bravely come to him upon her return as ballet mistress. Her daughter Meg had returned as well. Antoinette he supposed counted her blessings that he had not taken her life the day she had found him upon his return to his home. Her conscience would not let her abandon someone thought to be her responsibility. Her ties to the boy of her youthful rescue had long since ceased to need her.

Rather than fearing returning many looked upon returning to the opera house as coming home. Of course they had feared the Opera Ghost or Phantom but since most of them had never actually seen him until that fateful night or heard him, they surmised his interest would not be captured by them unless they did as Joseph Buguet had done, chase the ghost. If humor could be felt the very idea that even though half of Paris knew with crystal clear certainty the Phantom and Opera Ghost were one and the same and also had been proven to be only a man, those simpleminded fools still thought an actual ghost haunted their workplace.

Antoinette had kept him apprised of the progress being made on the building. Only recently had his interest been sparked. He did not need the funds his extortion practices had bled from former owners but he did feel the need for a distraction. Pitting his wits against a manager who had a personal stake in the opera house had always spurred him on to be more flamboyance in his "haunting" of the places he would be sure to run into a few employees, never more than one or two and the more highly strung people made more commotion than any ghost could have. If a refusal to pay had been their answer to one of his demands made in notes carried by Antoinette, his reply had been some sort of mischief which hampered a performance.

Only in his pursuit of Christine had his actions become violent and dangerous. He did have traps set in various tunnels and trapdoors underneath the stage as well as on the many staircases leading to the lower levels but those were for protection from interlopers only. Raoul had nearly died in one Antoinette had informed him while scowling darkly at him. For safety's sake she had demanded to know just where all of his traps were located and forced a promise from him to disarm the most lethal ones. She'd not die in one of his contraptions while serving him. Since they had made a tentative truce he had given her a detailed map. After all he would not wish to make Meg an orphan.

Antoinette had tried over the last few months to raise his interest in what had been happening within the opera house above. Stubbornly he had not let himself show even the slightest interest. To do so would have meant he had begun to release the hold Christine had on that worthless organ called a heart. Contrarily he wanted to let go of Christine's tight grasp while wishing at the same time to wallow in the misery thoughts of her brought about. This mourning process at times seemed to be endless. His grief over destroying his opera house had waned to mere pricks of regret while his grief for Christine's loss still haunted him day and night. Music would be heard resounding from the walls once more. Perhaps if Christine returned for one last good-bye life might seem less despairing.

He did consider L'Opéra Populaire to belong to him as he had lived there longer than anyone other than Antoinette and Meg. Through the benefit of his threats many wise decisions had been made that otherwise would not have been made. Did the Opera Ghost not know better than anyone what was right for this place considered a shrine to music?

Now there would be a new owner coming thinking they could manage this kingdom better than he himself could. The old excitement had been welling up in him the closer the day came for the new owner to begin occupancy. Unlike Andre and Firmin, this owner had sent word that the best rooms be made ready for occupancy. He had wondered why two separate rooms had been requested. That curiosity had been deflected temporarilywhen he had learned Christine's old dressing room had been refurbished for use by some unknown person.

He had wanted to race above and tear the room apart. He had not done so. His days of destroying things upon his first impulse were behind him. He had made the decision to try to curb that reckless tendency. It hurt him physically to think of anyone being in Christine's room other than the woman herself. He'd wait and see just who these new people were before he acted in any permanent way. It would not harm anyone for a few mishaps to occur. As long as everyone remained unharmed the Phantom could have some fun. Antoinette had not been given much information. Apparently everything had been cloaked in secrecy. That in and of itself, had peaked his interest a little. Why would they need to keep such a low profile unless they were of criminal intent?

In two days his new manager and some other unknown person would be arriving. At last something had come along to wake his atrophying mind. Parts that had been dorment now course with new life as blood began to flow quickly through him with every beat of his heart. Anticipation rose reviving uninspired musical cells in his brain. Finally something had been presented to challenge him, giving him a reason to continue to live.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's your Wednesday chapter. Hope it meets with your approval. As always read and review. Glad to see some of my loyal followers posting reviews and all the new people as well. **

**As to legal rights, I own nothing except my O/C and story line. **

**Chapter Four**

**Observations**

As had been expected Rutherford had posed several strong objections to the women traveling to France alone. Later it would be recalled that his protests had not been made very strongly and he had given in far too easily for a man who liked to think his way was best in all things. The compromise they had reached had been for him to follow them shortly after so as to "protect" them. Privately both ladies thought they had a need of protection _from _Rutherford rather than _by_ him. Arrangements had also been made for David to travel to France in about a month as a reward for his diligence. All expenses were being handled by Tamara. She appreciated David's loyalty and lack of manly overbearing attitude. If she thought it might not offend him Tamara would have praised David by informing him that he showed a feminine side at times. He thought with something other than his manly parts or wanting to hold power over others physically or emotionally. In other words he dealt fairly with both men and women.

The trip that began in New York Harbor had taken them to a port in England. A few days to acclimatize themselves after the nearly month long sea voyage and then they were ready to book passage on the first ship crossing the choppy English Channel. Tamara felt a familiar surge of excitement as she watched France's shore come into view. In her early years this emotion had been present during every new voyage she and her parents began. Always there seemed to be something waiting for her just over the next horizon. When she and her grandmother had settled on land Tamara had placed her adventurous side in some hidden place inside of her not expecting to ever let it out again. Looking at her grandmother's flushed smiling face gladdened her heart. Both of them needed this new adventure whether they would admit it aloud or not. Life had become stale and predictable.

A rush of expectation flowed through Tamara without knowing a reason why. A quick flash of a handsome brooding face momentarily came to mind but she just as quickly forced it back into hiding. She'd not let some romantic fantasy encroach on her reality. How pathetic would she be if she let this man, possibly now a real ghost, influence a moment of her day? Letting him invade her dreams had been the only concession she had been willing to grant him. If she were honest with herself Tamara did feel a little more excited about this new venture of her grandmother's than she would admit. It wouldn't do to let Grandmother Lily know that as any slight encouragement would have the sweet woman shouting to the heavens "I told you so".

Disembarking had been a trial as Lillian wished to converse with every beggar who approached them and many who had not. A few superstitious among them crossed themselves when the Opera Ghost had been mentioned. Others were all too willing to expound on the subject. Tamara felt in two minds about this turn of events. On the one hand it meant Paris had not forgotten the events and on the other hand the same observation could be a drawback. During one of these informational exchanges it had been learned that the opera house still had its resident ghost although as of yet he had remained inactive. The only proof of his presence had been sightings of his cloaked figure coming and going from the Rue Scribe side of the building. Only the Opera Ghost dared to use that entrance. Anyone who had dared to use it in the past had lived to regret disobeying one of the Opera Ghosts commands.

Her grandmother could barely contain herself as they neared her new property. Tamara had to give credit where credit was due. Her grandmother had been jotting down ideas throughout the journey as well as having written out page after page of detailed proposals. Many of those plans Tamara had to say sounded promising. Her grandmother appeared to most to be a simple woman easily duped. For the most part that was her innocent belief that everyone told the truth and not a lack of intelligence that had her always making the wrong decisions. Creativity had proven to be a gift her grandmother had in abundance at least where this endeavor was concerned.

The carriage came to a sudden stop with both women lurching forward. Lillian could hardly wait for the driver to open the door. The majestic building stood towering over them casting a long shadow until the sun crossed overhead. At the moment the sun still sat on the other side of the building. Both women shivered for no apparent reason as they looked up at the rooftop. Anyone could be hiding up there among the many statues and shadows. Lillian squinted trying to separate man from shadow with no positive result.

Grabbing a handful of her skirts Lillian practically ran across the large expanse of sidewalk that separated the opera steps from the street. After a few jaunty steps she turned toward the still unmoving Tamara. Lillian urged her to hurry so the real adventure could begin. Tamara knew just what her grandmother's immediate goal would be, finding her Opera Ghost as she called the man now. She had spoken of little else the whole journey across the great expanse of the ocean and continued on as they crossed the channel. Even the train ride to Paris had been filled with excited chatter. Lillian chatted up several of the passengers. Her Grandmother Lily could hardly wait to present her ideas and proposals to this mystery man.

Tamara had mixed feelings as she watched her grandmother's excited dash up the steps taking her to the doors of the opera house. Her grandmother looked and acted like a much younger woman. With excitement of her own causing her blood to move much faster through her veins Tamara could hardly chastise her grandmother for feeling excited about beginning her search. Tamara had to curb her own sudden urge to dash into the building. The dreams about her phantom lover became more vivid as well as more passionate with each night that passed as hard as she tried to prevent them from occupying her dreamtime. The man had begun to take over her every thought whether awake or sleeping. Never had any man enthralled Tamara in this way and as of yet she had not even seen or heard him in person. All that fueled her passion had been a drawing and a few descriptive words. Fear of the unknown gripped her even as she welcomed these new emotions.

Forcing herself to follow at a more sedate pace Tamara came to her grandmother's side. She was not allowed to take in the beautiful statues or the ornate carvings at the entrance as her grandmother grabbed her hand to drag her through the front doors of the building. Upon entering even her grandmother paused to look on in awe at the magnificent entryway. Everything represented perfection and beauty. White and gold covered the whole of the ceiling and walls while the floor consisted of white and gold marble squares. The gold and white squares complimented the rest of the décor perfectly. Everything spoke of luxurious splendor. Bold red and gold curtains added a splash of color. It did not look vulgar at all; in fact it hinted at romance, a subtle implication of the seduction which would be played out in the many operas performed within the auditorium.

There were people bustling about. Most were cleaning staff taking on the Herculean task of keeping this massive place ready for the first performance. At the ticket office there were men and women dressed in a mixture of clothing of the common class and those who came from obvious wealth. It would seem all of Parisian society would willingly shill out their hard earned cash to be entertained.

Lillian approached the window with the young woman sitting on a stool behind the glass and steel barred window. She addressed the young woman after excusing herself to the line of people in front of her. She would waste no time standing in line to ask a question of one of her own employees. Tamara continued to watch her grandmother transform from the sweet little old lady she had always known to this pleasantly persuasive woman who would brook no interference in what she wanted.

It had surprised Tamara the day they had boarded the boat that would bring them across the channel when her grandmother had brought a satchel filled with papers with her into their private cabin. She had been further impressed to learn her grandmother had compiled dossiers on every key employee of the opera house from the time of the disaster as well as recent rehires and new employees.

She also had clippings from newspapers with the story of the Phantom told from many different witnesses. From what Tamara had been able to gather Christine Daaé and Raoul de Chagny had been reluctant to speak of the tragedy so had made only a short statement. Madame Giry had likewise been reticent with any information. Because her grandmother sounded so vibrant in her retelling Tamara did not remind her that Tamara herself had read and learned most of what she had to say.

During the year following the tragedy turmoil in France had put the story out of interest to the public as their country went through a trying time. Only when the country had been rebuilding what had been destroyed all over Paris did the tale come to the attention of the public once more as the rebuilding began on the opera house.

The managers had been hoping the romantic tale of a love struck madman would bring interest back to the theatre. It had worked as offers of donations had poured in. Neither man had wanted to continue managing the place. They had not been convinced their Opera Ghost had either left or perished that night of the fire. No body had been found. They feared that once the man recovered from his broken spirit he would once again reign in terror over them and seek some sort of revenge. Selling the opera house had been an easy decision for them to make.

Lillian asked to see Madame Giry. She had impressed Tamara as she pleasantly made the request masking her demand. Once it had been established just who Lillian Palmenter was the young woman, Giselle, had been very eager to please. A young man who had been checking the gas light fixtures had been sent to find Madame Giry and bring her back so Lillian could speak with her.

"Grandmother what do you hope to learn from Madame Giry? Does this have anything to do with the opera house specter? I had thought we agreed that you would not be pursuing that issue."

"No dear if you remember correctly I said I wouldn't go gadding about on my own for information. I said nothing about asking questions. Besides if the man is still in residence would it not serve us better to hire him to use his knowledge legitimately rather than make demands and extort a salary from us?"

Lillian felt as if she had been rejuvenated. She simply must find this Opera Ghost person and speak to him directly. All of this ghost and phantom business seemed far more exciting than simply running the opera house.

Lillian stopped pacing about when the young man returned with a very attractive woman who looked to be in her early forties or late thirties. She wore a black dress but it did not give her the air of one in morning as black usually denoted. Contrarily on her the dress gave her an air of elegance. Inclining her head the woman who must be Madame Giry spoke in heavily accented English, "I am Madame Giry. I have little time to waste but Jarrod made it seem important that I come. How may I be of service?"

Lillian wanted to ask so many questions of this woman but many would not be appropriate for an employer to ask an employee, at least not where others might listen in. She'd need to wait for the more personal questions concerning this woman and the Opera Ghost. Perhaps this woman and the man had been having an affair all those years until that little Daaé girl had come along. Lillian restrained herself from asking all those pertinent questions to ask the more mundane questions a manager would ask an employee.

"Madame Giry, if it wouldn't be too much trouble I would appreciate your time showing me and my granddaughter Tamara around the opera house." Lillian dared Madame with a look to declare aloud that she was not a tour guide.

She relented a little when she realized how rude she had been by not even introducing herself and Tamara properly. Lillian put her hand to the side of her head in a gesture that did not fool Tamara in the least. "Oh my, please forgive me. All this travel has made me remiss in introducing myself. I am Lillian Palmenter and this is my granddaughter Tamara Stern. I am the new owner of this establishment and my granddaughter will be assisting me in the management of the business side of things while I will attend to the artistic side of things."

Tamara looked at her grandmother in surprise. This was the first time she had heard her grandmother say anything about having any hands on interaction with the production side of the theatre. She had thought all those ideas would be handed over to the proper employee for implementation and consideration.

As she looked at her grandmother's challenging glance around the lobby then finally come to rest on Madame Giry a clearer picture came of what her grandmother had in mind. She did not so much want to attend to the management of the opera house as she wished to prod a resident ghost into coming out of hiding if he still haunted the place. That sort of thing would appeal to her grandmother's romantic adventurous side that had always needed to be held in check when her father and husband were alive. Now she had something she could sink her teeth into she was off and running.

Antoinette gauged the character of the two women in front of her. She had done her best to find out as much as possible before they arrived as Erik had wanted to know everything. She had been glad to see him taking an interest in life once more but hoped he did not take his position of Opera Ghost too far.

The younger one she knew to be only twenty-three. The little she had been able to find out had not prepared her for the beauty standing before her. Tamara Stern had a glorious head of fiery red hair. Skin that should be sprinkled with freckles looked to be unblemished. Her jade green eyes were similar to her grandmothers but the older woman's were slightly less vibrant perhaps due to her age.

From the detectives reports Antoinette had held the idea that the younger woman would be more studious and less attractive as she managed her own fortune herself. True she had a man posing as the one in charge but the detective had not been mislead nor had anyone in the business community. This would pose a threat to Erik's peace of mind. Being still in the throes of recovering from Christine's blow to his heart and manhood, he would either see Tamara as a challenge to be met head on or someone who would see him as less than a man and therefore he would treat her as an enemy. Either way the woman might be in danger.

Madame Palmenter, likely he would dismiss her as of no consequence. Antoinette had a feeling he would be in for a surprise where the older woman was concerned, the younger one perhaps as well. She seemed unlike any other woman he had met thus far. She had stepped into the role many men would envy. The grandmother as well had showed bravery to take on the task of running the opera house with only the help of her daughter.

"As we will be working so closely together may I call you Lillian and you Mademoiselle, may I call you Tamara? Such lovely names, Tamara is quite unusual."

"Oh by all means call me Lillian and I am sure Tamara will agree there is no need to stand on ceremony. We hope to become familiar with as many of our employees as possible. Of course with nearly a thousand people it would be impossible to know them all personally but we will be working closely with our different department heads.

Have our rooms been prepared as I instructed?" Lillian couldn't wait for Tamara to occupy the room where Christine Daaé had been taken from by her love struck tutor. No one had ever come forward with information as to how she had been taken from a locked room. A thorough search of the room had not offered any explanations and the woman in question had claimed amnesia.

The official explanation had been a drug given to Mademoiselle Daaé. The details from that young woman and her fiancée were vague. Neither had given testimony that had resulted in finding the man who had abducted her twice. There had to be more to the story than the public knew.

Lillian suspected Mademoiselle Daaé had more intimate feelings for her tutor than she had been willing to declare publicly. According to eyewitness testimony the pair had nearly set the stage on fire with passion long before the chandelier had come down.

More and more Lillian wanted to meet this mysterious man who lived such a secretive lonely life. A man with that much passion would make a very passionate lover. If she were younger she would pursue the man for herself but things being what they were she'd settle for letting her granddaughter reap the benefits of all that pent up passion.

Antoinette told Lillian she would personally escort them to their rooms. Erik had not been pleased at all that someone would be taking the room Christine had occupied the last few months she had been in the opera house. He considered it a sacrilege for anyone to step foot in the room. During renovations he had done all he could to frighten everyone away from that room. If he could have taken up residence there he would have done so to prevent anyone entering what he tried to keep as a shrine.

That part of the building had only been damaged by smoke. The fire had not reached that far behind the stage. All the dormitories had been left intact as well as all the dressing rooms. Oddly the explosions from the gas lines at the front of the building had brought much of the rubble straight down thereby smothering most of the fire after the first few major explosions. Nearly all the front portion, which included the stage, had been completely or partially destroyed. A few of the statues had come through with only minor damage. The cleaning of the marble had not been an easy or cheap task.

Antoinette wondered how long it would take Erik to reach Christine's old dressing room. She had not a doubt in her mind he had been looking on from one of his many newly restored passageways. She had to resist the urge to glance nervously around. She hoped he held on to his temper and would not commit some offence even before the two women had time to unpack.

As she followed behind Antoinette gave Tamara a closer look. Her carriage and stride were not those of a shrinking violet. Confidence could been seen in every move she made. Perhaps this woman would be good for Erik after all. He needed a challenge. Christine had been too fragile for his strong personality. What she had observed so far she liked. Of course it would take more than a few words exchanged before any real assessment could be made of the young woman's character.

Anyway it would be in the hands of the parties involved whether or not anything transpired between them. If an approach would be made as a man would do perhaps this time Erik could have what he craved most, the love of a woman. He'd need to put his ghostly pursuits behind him. He had been lacking in any interest to resurrect the Opera Ghost but with this new turn of events he might just find new life. This time though he would not be dealing with a young girl hardly more than a child. He would be taking on two very independent women. She could not help but hope for Erik to succeed in this prusuit should he decide to take them on.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello all. I am trying to keep a positive outlook at the moment when life is giving me not much to feel positive about other than just how positive I am I'd like to do away with a certain man. Sometimes I wake up and just want to lay back down and cover my head up. Writing has been a Godsend for me. Without that and my readers I'd likely do something drastic and perhaps it wouldn't be me I'd be doing it to. Let us just say I can understand how Erik could take things too far at times. If I acted impulsively on my thoughts someone (scoundrel hubby for one) would have been hurt long ago. **

**Chapter Five**

**First Impressions**

Erik watched the new arrivals with curiosity being the most prominent emotion. Neither woman had been quite what he expected. Because they had been in the world of business and had control over their lives unlike other women, he had pictured them as being somewhat masculine in appearance with gruff manly voices. He could see from his perch behind the office box that both women were properly feminine. The younger one especially earned more than one intense glance from him. It had been a long time since anything had held the least bit of interest for him. Not many people had ever gained his notice, those who had…well…best not go into that. Suffice it to say this would be a departure from the norm if he found any amusement in the new female members of his opera house.

The elder woman while exuding grace also displayed what could be compared to childlike behavior. He found his lips stretching into an unfamiliar smile. If nothing else the woman had given him a moment outside his customary gloom and doom observation of life. One would expect women who worked among men to dress, in a word, manly. Far from being manly these two were the height of feminine fashion. He rather liked the younger ones trim lined dress. All the fluff under women's skirts may be considered feminine but Erik had always considered them unnecessary barriers men had to get through to reach all the hidden charms of womanhood.

Watching as they walked toward the center of the lobby he found his mouth suddenly dry. Nothing less than some devastating occurrence could have drawn his gaze from that woman's swaying backside. Usually it had been obvious charms to draw his interest but now he found himself fascinated by swaying hips encased in cloth. The things his mind conjured would have flushed his cheeks if it had not all gone south to engorge his manhood in a reaction he preferred to keep at bay as it only brought aggravation and frustration.

Antoinette took lead of the little entourage. It would not do for the new owners to become hopelessly lost in case the resident ghost wished to make their acquaintance in a less than acceptable manner. The ghost in question could have told Antoinette a meeting with his new managers would happen whether or not they wished it. When the meeting would take place had not been decided as of yet by said ghost.

Lillian followed behind Antoinette running into her back now and then as she looked from side to side in awe. Never would she have imagined that behind the scenes of a theatre could be so magical. People were milling about, everyone with a purpose. Laughter and conversation could be heard as they went from one long hallway to another. Children as well as young girls dressed in practice uniforms scurried down the hall past them looking at the ground rather than Madame Giry. The dancers should have been at practice fifteen minutes ago. Madame would not excuse their tardiness even though she herself would not be present. Meg would be sure to take note of each and every late arrival as she should as Madame's unofficial right hand.

They came to Lillian's rooms first. Going inside she felt pleasantly surprised to find the room had been fitted with its own bathing room. A modern toilet had also been installed. At least she would not have to traipse up and down drafty halls just to use the facilities. Using something that personal that others used did not seem at all sanitary to her. This slightly obsessive need for hygiene would be one of many things she and Erik found in common over time.

When Tamara and the others would have left her on her own promising to send someone later to take her in to dinner, Lillian protested. Would it not be better for her to know where her granddaughter would be staying in case she needed her? Antoinette had told them a little about their rooms. Neither of them thought it prudent to inform their guide that not much that had gone on before or what would take place in the future, would be kept secret. Knowledge, as Tamara knew, was power.

Knowing her grandmother's agenda now Tamara knew why she wished to see that particular dressing room. Tamara did not miss Antoinette's surreptitious glance around the room as if expecting someone to be hiding behind a chair or perhaps the dressing room mirror. Thinking about what she had heard, if the man still haunted the place, he could very well be lurking behind the mirror. Tamara just barely kept her hand from reaching up to smooth her hair. She would not look in the mirror to check that all her bits and pieces were as they should be. That man's opinion of her mattered not one iota in the scheme of things. For no apparent reason she found herself drawing her shoulders back and turning to the side, her right side, the side everyone swore made her look thin yet ravishingly curvaceous. Perhaps not those words exactly had been used and it could be influential flattery to gain her investment skills, but nonetheless she preferred to think the compliments had been genuine.

On an impulse Tamara turned to smile directly into the mirror. A soft sound, like a human indrawn breath had briefly been heard by all of them. When nothing further came they giggled uneasily while casting nervous glances at the mirror. Lillian now wished she could shove everyone out the door but her curiosity to see the very room Christine used won out over what might prove to be a fruitless attempt to contact her Opera Ghost. Plenty of time for that.

Whereas Antoinette had only suspected Erik would be observing them in the lobby, she knew very well he had been behind that mirror in the room Lillian would be using. If she could have come up with a legitimate reason for not letting anyone use Christine's old room she would have jumped at the excuse. Observing anyone in that room would be irresistible for him. Having a lovely young woman within reach would titillate him.

She had wanted to either have the mirrors removed or the walls bricked over but Erik had firmly forbade her to order any such thing. If he was to have new managers in his opera house he must be able to observe them at close hand. Going from wanting no one to have the room to accepting a new occupant had worried her somewhat. Erik could be devilishly vindictive at times. He wouldn't hurt a woman deliberately but he could and would frighten one or make life very unpleasant, just ask Carlotta.

Knowing Erik's love of beauty he could not help but notice Tamara. If the woman had even a thimble full of talent Erik would fall under her spell. Just now he would be particularly vulnerable. He would be searching for someone to fill the void Christine had left in his life. Whether he wanted it or not he would find someone who would attract him. He was not celibate by choice. He longed to fulfill his dreams of having a woman's love and one he could love both with his heart and body.

Grief over Christine might keep him from actively looking for a woman but eventually he would have those feelings again. Even when he protested Antoinette's suggestions to find someone and approach her as a man, he adamantly claimed Christine would forever hold his heart in her unloving hands, then he would look longingly at the portrait of a happy groom and his new bride he kept as a reminder of something he could not have.

Often times Antoinette regretted encouraging Erik to speak to Christine in those first days the child grieved for her father. If not for Christine poor Erik would not have been given the opportunity to have anyone benefit from his talents. Music and a God-given angelic voice were just two of Erik's many talents. Christine had at least showed him that he could love someone. For years he doubted his ability to do so. Fate would have him falling for a woman who loved another. Guilt ate into Antoinette's soul for she had not tried to stop Erik's continued obsessive behavior toward Christine. Once his mind had set on her nothing could deter him.

Of course in later years Christine had known her "angel" was not an angel at all but a man who preferred the shadows. An unspoken acknowledgment had been between Christine and Antoinette since the young child of twelve had asked why if he were an angel did he leave her gifts, gifts with the different names of the businesses around Paris still on the packaging? In all his clever deceit Erik had made the simple mistake of leaving gifts with evidence to show where the different purchases had originally came from. She well remembered his excitement each and every time he had left something for Christine.

Never having received any gift in his life it pleased him to be able to do that simple thing for another. He had even given Meg gifts of toe shoes or a new dress. Of course never would Antoinette have let Meg know where those presents came from. She had not wanted Meg to become enamored of Erik. As it was she had grown fascinated by him over the years.

Coming to Christine's old dressing room Antoinette hesitated to open the door. Every time she came down this hallway she would stop and place her hand on this door. Christine rarely came to Paris any more. During the troubles she had not come at all. She and Raoul had left the country for the first six months after the disaster. Antoinette had looked for Erik as much as she could. Times were very hard during that period. Nothing had been coming in or going out of the city other than people trying to leave a city devastated by war and dissidence. No one could move about safely. Now she knew that even Erik had left Paris for a short time. He had returned only when things had started returning to normal and reconstruction had begun on the opera house.

Opening the door they were assuaged by the smell of fresh paint. Draperies to match the light pink and draperies had been hung on the two windows which faced the back alley. Not a scenic view but at least there were windows in this room, many were airless boxes with little to recommend them. This room also had been acquitted with its own bath. The focal point of the room remained the large ornate mirror. Nothing about it had been changed. Erik could even now be looking in on them while he waited to hear their conversation. As if on cue the three females turned to look directly into the mirror. When they heard not one rustle coming from that direction they all hurried into speech to relieve their discomfiture from acting like silly frightened children. Well perhaps fright had not been what motivated their perusal of the mirror.

Lillian gathered her wits to speak slightly louder than need be, "Oh Tamara isn't it just the most fascinating thing? In this very room that young Daaé woman listened to her poor heartsick tutor." Lillian cast an apologetic look toward her reflection just in case the walls had ears and eyes. She did not wish to start off on the wrong footing.

"Grandmother Lily it is not in any way romantic. This maniac murdered two people maybe more. Who knows what ungodly things he may have done to the young women living and working here during his years of terrorizing the place?

He was a menace and it is a shame he got away without paying for his crimes. Don't go romanticizing his misdeeds. He is not some romantic figure from one of your romance novels. He is not one of your strays from the street." Tamara only believed a portion of what she said. She must take a hard line just in case that lunatic stood behind the mirror. He must realize she was not some naïve young soprano who could be led by some singing phantom.

"Tamara I am your grandmother and your elder. I will not have you speaking to me in such a manner. I don't know how you can be so cruel to speak to me in front of strangers in this way. I, who have been there through everything at your side. I must say I don't care for this hurtful person you have become." Lillian dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief as she stole a look in Tamara's direction to gauge just how badly she had made her feel. Too her consternation Tamara stood looking at her sternly with her arms crossed. Perhaps this method had been used a few too many times to gain some point. A new strategy would need to be developed in order to keep one step ahead of Tamara's sharp as a tack mind.

"Grandmother Lily that poor me tact will not work on me anymore. I, if anyone, know just how tough you are. You'd not let anyone run roughshod over you. You give as good as you get. Your greatest fault is generosity, not stupidity. A more agile mind I would be hard pressed to find. Now if we have aired enough of our personal business in front of our new employee please leave me to unpack. I am sure you will wish to do the same before we go to dinner. And no sneaking off to explore. No ghost hunting." Tamara shook her finger at her grandmother knowing full well that if given the opportunity she would be off roaming the halls tapping on the walls trying to find hidden passages. This mystery surrounding the Phantom had peeked her grandmother's adventurous spirit as well as her romantic nature. Not for all the tea in China would she admit to her own interest.

Lillian placed her right hand on her chest while giving her best acting interpretation of a woman greatly surprised and offended. "Why Tamara, whatever do you mean? I am shocked as well as appalled by your words. What sort of impression will this be for Madame, oh…uh…I mean Antoinette. What must she think of us?"

Placing her hand on Antoinette's upper arm Lillian confided in a hushed whisper, "Please excuse my granddaughter. She has been without romance for such a long time. You and I must talk later." Lillian patted Antoinette's arm smiling in a conspiratorial fashion.

Antoinette had watched the two women. Clearly they cared deeply for one another and it had been just as clear they knew one another well. It would be interesting to see how these two different women got along with everyone, including Erik.

Reluctantly Lillian left Tamara to freshen up and begin her unpacking. She had really wanted to examine that mirror. It concerned her a little that perhaps even now that man could be observing her granddaughter. Nothing in all the information she had received about the Opera Ghost had hinted that he may have been a voyeur. Of course he watched people and listened in on private conversations but nothing anyone had reported led her to believe the man had been a lecher. He had not even been said to observe Christine in her private moments. Of course who would know if he had?

That Daaé girl had remained innocent throughout their association even as he lusted after her in private. He had never made any move to take advantage of her, at least nothing anyone had been aware of or mentioned in any statement to the authorities. She would keep an open mind until the man himself proved she could not trust him. She'd brick over that mirror herself if she found out he had done anything inappropriate while Tamara occupied the room.

With one last longing look at the mirror Lillian allowed Tamara to usher her out the door. Owning the property would reap certain benefits such as being able to walk about when everyone else slept in their beds.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Ghostly Presence **

Tamara shut the door and leaned back sighing tiredly. She knew what her grandmother had in mind. At least a part of what she had planned. Her grandmother hoped to bargain with the man if he still lived within the opera houses cellars. Her own interest had been peaked for a very different reason.

It would please her grandmother no end to meet the man face to face. The story of his unrequited love had touched a place in her grandmother that she seldom even acknowledged anymore. Tamara could not remember her grandmother so much as fanning herself flirtatiously in the presence of any man. Not one man had passed her threshold that had not come to discuss business with Tamara or hold their hand out for charitable donations. Grandmother Lily would be considered still a spry handsome woman. She still retained her youthful attractiveness. Briefly Tamara let herself feel grateful her grandmother would not be in competition to attract a man, if one should come along of course.

Tamara knew it to be her fault her grandmother did not show her romantic side openly anymore. After being told several times romance was a useless emotional state that only made one vulnerable to those who would use you, her grandmother tended to hold her own council on matters of the heart. Many years ago all of her grandfather's things had been lovingly stored away. Only his pictures had remained out as a tangible reminder he had lived and loved. If her grandmother had been alone instead of saddled with an ungainly young girl reaching a turning point in her life, perhaps her grandmother would have sought and found love again. Having to raise her granddaughter, one who had lived what some would consider a savage existence, might have deterred her Grandmother Lily from seeking male companionship. This probably accounted for her purchasing the opera house without so much of a mention of doing so.

When Tamara had been young she had needed her grandmother but later she could have managed with frequent visits rather than the woman she loved and cared about above all others missing out on meeting someone who might have given her back what she had lost when her husband had died. It had not been Tamara's intention to force her grandmother to abandon her belief in romance, it had only been her goal to enlighten her to how many of those who claimed everlasting love found their way into another's bed and often managed to pledge their heart to someone else as well. It had not been her intention to have Grandmother Lily swear off all romance. Those words spoken so disparagingly about love and those fools who believe it had been said only as a way to cover any feelings lacking in herself to be able to attract the interest of even one potential beau. Closing off her heart to such things had been a way to shield herself from feeling inadequate.

She knew her grandmother had a great belief in romance and all it implied even if she now kept such declarations to herself. If the right man came along Tamara could see her grandmother being swept off her feet now that she didn't need to worry so much about her granddaughter. Perhaps the Opera Ghost had an older brother, uncle or…At this point Tamara recalled the sad circumstances of the man's living underneath the opera house in the first place. If he could not show Grandmother Lily any romance at least he would stir her interest trying to find him so she might barter for his services. If a flicker of interest flared in her own heart it would be ignored unless the flicker turned into a flame.

She would not put it past Grandmother Lily to go out searching candle in hand for the man. His tragic story would draw her grandmother like a moth to a flame. It would not be beyond possibilities for her grandmother to try and find the man a companion. This thought did not please Tamara one bit. Not ready yet to delve into her own interest in the man Tamara preferred to analyze everyone else's reactions to him.

All she could hope is that when her grandmother went skulking about she would be a pace behind the sneaky older woman. Tamara had not seen her grandmother so excited in a long time. The color in her cheeks along with the sparkle in her eyes made her look younger, more vibrant. Her vitality had spiked to a new level as soon as they had begun packing and making plans for their journey to France. Tamara felt torn by her grandmother's reaction to this terrible tragedy that had taken place in the old opera house. On the one hand it had given her grandmother a renewed zest for life and romance while on the other if this man still felt broken after losing the woman he loved it might prove cruel to open those wounds again. If this man in the mask were still of an infirm mind he might not care for her grandmother's interest in him and thus put herself and everyone else at risk.

Going to the mirror she looked into the glass perhaps secretly hoping she might see something. As much as she protested her grandmother's interest in the tragic tale Tamara couldn't help but feel some compassion as well as wonder about such a darkly alluring figure as the Phantom had been purported to be. Female members of the audience who had made statements had claimed the man had been disfigured but still looked to be a fine specimen of manhood. The newspaper drawing came all too readily to her mind. His voice had been regaled as holding only notes sung by the angels. What they said about his physical form did not bear repeating.

Placing her hand on the glass without knowing why Tamara sighed then turned away to go into the bathroom so she could freshen up before someone came to show her where they were to dine. It would seem all the upper staff and performers ate in the dining hall at the front of the opera house.

As she moved away a pair of intense green eyes followed her. He had startled when she had placed her hand on the glass wondering if she had caught the flicker of the flame from his candle sitting on the stone at his feet. Earlier her smile had nearly done him in. Her smile had lit twin candles in her eyes. If the eyes were the window to ones soul Mademoiselle Tamara Stern had a heart of purity and beauty.

Erik had been watching the newcomers ever since they stepped foot inside the opera house. He had made certain he knew when they would be arriving. He felt certain Antoinette knew he had looked on as the new arrivals entered his opera house. She would be aware of his need to see just who would be in supposed power of the domain he felt belonged to him. They had first gone to the older woman's room. If he thought she would stay put he had been mistaken. Darned if he did not think everyone could see him as they had stared openly into the glass in front of them. Idiot that he had been as Mademoiselle had enthralled him with her smile some sound must have emanated from him for all three women had stood stock still for a few very long seconds before nervous giggling had commenced. Almost with certainty Antoinette would question him later. Whether he admitted to his spying would be determined when such a question had been posed.

After only a cursory glance at the older woman he had examined the younger one quite thoroughly. He did not care for red hair although her particular shade brought out the vivid color of her eyes. Her skin seemed far too pale, but hers seemed to glow with good health as well as look invitingly soft. He disliked opinionated women but felt inclined to hold off judgment on either woman until further observations could be made. He conceded her eyes were quite lovely. Perhaps her features when taken one by one they could be discounted as ordinary but combined together he had to admit she looked quite striking.

Quickly he assured himself that compared to Christine she paled into obscurity. She did not have the sweet shy tone of Christine's voice. This woman spoke forthrightly and confidently that what she had to say held importance. With all his will he forced himself to find only negative things but his contrary mind would not have him be so untruthful. He curbed that part of him that followed that woman into the privacy of her bathing room. Forcibly he shut his mind to pictures of how creamy her skin would look. Try as he might he could not stem the speculation of his mind wondering just how soft her skin might feel beneath his hands.

Since Christine's departure it seemed all he thought about these days were fleshly desires, all the things he would never have. In one breath he cursed Christine for reawakening those desires of his youth that he had walled away when he accepted pleasures of the flesh were not for him, not that he did not wish to learn about them as any man would but for him they could never become a reality. He had accepted that and buried his body's yearnings deeply within his soul.

Having fallen in love with Christine had reawakened those yearnings. Now he felt as if they were never far from his thoughts. His dreams had become quite vivid. Christine, much to his shame, did not feature in all of those erotic dreams. Many women had paraded through his nightly visits to a pleasure palace made from his mind's own desires.

Forcing his mind into other avenues, Erik left his vigil at Christine's old room. He would need to return above later this evening so he could be sure to observe his new managers while they dined. Perhaps good food and plenty of wine would loosen them up enough to have them regaling everyone with their plans for the future of his opera house.

Returning to his home in the deepest part of the catacombs he rowed himself leisurely down the canal toward his home while his thoughts began to churn. He glanced about seeing exactly how dark and dreary this place really was. Before his descent into madness, he had left hundreds of torches burning to give an illusion of light. The sun never reached this part of the opera house. Not many people ventured this far below. Fear of the Phantom's wrath had kept most from venturing into his domain.

Docking his boat Erik stepped out onto the landing. Standing with his hands on his hips he moved his gaze about the disarray of his home. His belongings still lay as the mob had left them. He still had no heart to touch any of it other than his organ and a few precious drawings of Christine that had not been torn or thrown into the lake.

Feeling suddenly displeased with his surroundings Erik began to think and picture just what he would like to do with his former home. Since his return it had not seemed like home at all. Without the possibility of seeing Christine he did not even have that to look forward to each day. There hadn't been a performance since his own debacle on stage. Of course everything had been a little the worse for wear until the rebuilding had begun. Auditions had been given and rehearsals were under way all without any interest from either the Opera Ghost or the Phantom. Soon there would be performances again. The opera house would come to life. So too must he, the Opera Ghost come to life.

Something unknown surged through him. He could not discern from where it came. Never had he felt quite like this. He felt a sense of something new on the horizon. Perhaps the two new women who had entered his domain had brought with them more than a mere challenge to pit his wits against them. With Christine gone permanently from his life he must find some interest that would spark his creativity. Perhaps they would hire a soprano who would not mind lessons from an Opera Ghost. Never would he live under the guise of the Angel of Music again.

He refused to let his imagination go to the younger woman. To give himself false hope would only lead once more to a devastating blow to his ego, one he could ill afford. Christine's rejection had nearly crippled him. Her willingness to stay with him had been nothing more than a bargaining chip to free her beloved Vicomte, the white knight pitted against the Angel in Hell. Well light had triumphed over darkness. Erik remained entombed underneath the opera house alone.

If Christine had planned to strip him of everything that meant anything to him she had done her job well. As anger began to seethe through him long angry strides took him around his home where small objects were picked up then hurled against the wall leaving shards of glass to cover the stone floor. When he could find nothing small which he might throw he collapsed into a chair dispiritedly. He hated these bouts of self-pity which drove him to violence. Being alone afforded him the good fortune to be able to release his anger on inanimate objects instead of the rest of humanity. He had no love for the general populace. Only a handful of people did he hold in any sort of positive regard.

Contrary to what he had thought when he first heard of new managers he felt anticipation to match his wits with the two women. He disregarded the surge of male appreciation he felt as he recalled the younger woman's face and figure. He no longer felt disloyal to Christine when he found himself attracted to a woman. He had disabused himself at last that Christine would ever come back to him. In the beginning he had woken every morning believing that would be the day she returned to him. She would have discovered her mistake. Raoul no longer held her heart. He, her teacher, mentor and Angel of Music alone held her heart within his hands.

After many months of disappointment finally he had to admit to the reality of his life. Christine had gone away from him. She would not come to him willingly. He could either find himself a new home or come to terms with what staying in the opera house would entail. He had opted to stay with the familiar after a long sojourn around several continents. Andre and Richard, cowards that they were had sold the opera house without so much as by your leave. Now he regretted not making a greater impact on their lives. He should have taken a more personal interest in them. To bad at the time his entire concentration had been on winning Christine and killing Raoul.

Determining he would be present during the dinner, Erik dressed accordingly even if no one would see him. Proper attire for every occasion gave a man a sense of confidence even when he had none. Erik would not admit to lacking confidence in any area, at least not out loud. His brain may shout out his many deficiencies but he'd be damned if he let everyone know one more negative thing about him.

He had hoped after Paris returned to a somewhat normal state people would have forgotten about him. Those damn reporters had not been willing to let it go once they had rekindled the public's interest. An Opera Ghost haunting an opera house moaning about unrequited love held more interest than criminal activity at the moment. The devastation of the war had left everyone ready to read about something other than senseless killing and pillaging of one's own countrymen as well as by foreign regimes.

A quick glance into his mirror assured Erik he looked his best. He had bathed using his favorite bar of soap the concoction of which he felt quite proud to have created. He hoped his newest guests in the opera house would find it pleasant should there be an occasion to be in close proximity to any of them. If he found himself wondering about one more than the other he ignored what his mind did on the sly.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Along with all my other troubles swine flu has hit my family. My grandsons are ill with it and I hope not to get it myself. I watch them daily so I was exposed. At the moment I feel fine. If I should not post for a while it is because I am ill. Keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer on my behalf as well as those of my loved ones. Thanks. **

**Chapter Seven**

**Demand and Counter Demand**

The four women sat at the table in the dining hall silently eating for the first few minutes. They each took the time to observe and assess the others. A pleasant greeting had been followed by them taking their seats then eating once everyone had been served. Lillian had kept her eyes on Antoinette when she could do so without being caught. She did not want to appear to be rude. If anyone knew where her Opera Ghost would be, it would be Madame Giry his very own messenger. She could hardly contain her excitement to think of him perhaps peering at them from some secret hiding place. If she could hurry the others along they would all say their goodnights then go their separate ways. The others may head straight to bed but the evening would be ending in a much more interesting way for her.

This portion of the dining hall had been built separately from where the other members of the opera house staff dined. Those employees must go through a line to have their plates filled while those in this area were served by a couple of servants. Many tables had soon filled with the upper management employees. Lillian could not help but notice how often some of the diners glanced around the room. A few even crossed themselves. Well at least she would not have to worry about competition. There would be no chance encounters with others seeking to find her Opera Ghost. If, no when she met him one of the first things she might ask would be if he would honor her by allowing her to call him O.G. Perhaps he would think her presumptuous and forward. Maybe she'd have to let his mood during the encounter guide what questions and requests she made.

She felt that surge of excitement building in her once more. She felt certain eyes were upon them as they ate. She had not been able to get Antoinette alone so she could ask her a few pertinent questions. The more she observed Antoinette's own glances toward the wall directly adjacent to their table the more convinced she became he had to be nearby. He would not be able to resist observing them any more than she would be able to resist searching about the opera house after everyone had gone to bed. It would be so much easier if the she could persuade Antoinette to simply tell her how the mechanism in the mirror worked or have her show the way to his underworld. Staying in Christine's old dressing room would have been the ideal place to begin any search. Why she had not thought to demand that particular room irked her. She could hardly invade Tamara's private quarters, well that is, unless nothing else proved fruitful.

There were so many things she wished to ask but propriety forced her to remain silent. Upon further acquaintance perhaps she could ask the woman pertinent questions. Lillian could have kissed Meg when she piped up to say unexpectedly, "Mademoiselle Tamara, how did you like your room? Did you inspect the mirror? It opens into a passageway behind it you know? Perhaps Maman mentioned that is how Monsieur Phantom managed to steal Christine away that first time"

"Meg, hold your tongue!" Antoinette looked nervously toward the wall where a large painting hung among several smaller framed pictures. The eyes of the larger painting had a glint that had nothing to do with the artist's talent to give the portrait a sense of life. Those eyes belonged to an all too familiar face. If one had looked at those paintings closely surely one would remember brown eyes had been replaced by green?

"But Maman, does she not have a right to know about such things? I for one did not appreciate being kept in the dark for so many years by you or Christine," Meg said with slight anger in her voice. It had hurt to learn her mother had kept such a dark, dangerous secret from her. Christine had been quiet about the whole affair at first because she had been duped into thinking the man who taught her from the shadows had been an angel, her Angel of Music.

Turning to Lillian Meg added impudently, "Your mirror Madame Palmenter may have the same device to open it into those dark corridors that run throughout the whole of the opera house. There are many such mirrors and hidden panels. The panels are cleverly hidden so that no one thus far has found them. The only one who knows where they might be is Maman."

Meg cast a challenging look toward her mother. Resentment clouded her pretty blue eyes. For many years she had been kept in the dark about something so important to her mother and Christine. It still stung that Christine's very talented tutor had seen nothing in Meg to recommend her to him. It had always been Christine who held his full attention. Perhaps if he had taken an interest in others he would not have become so obsessed with Christine or found himself falling in love with another. Meg felt so ashamed for feeling jealous of Christine's association with a man who had caused her sister so much pain as well as having given her incredible joy over the years.

Tamara recalled feeling something when she had been in front of the mirror. She had been aware that the mirror opened into one of the passages that led to the cellars below but had thought someone would have blocked such portals to the lower levels. Going over all Antoinette had told them nothing had been said about disabling any passages or mirrors. Honestly she felt unsettled as well as that emotion she would not dare admit just yet. To know he could be watching her or step into her room at will had her vacillating between alarm and excitement.

She had read about Christine's statement that her angel had spoken to her from behind the mirror but could not remember any reference to it opening and leading down below to the cellars. She could not be certain, but she thought Madame and Meg speaking of such a thing had been the first time either she or her grandmother heard aloud about any such hidden access. Some secrets had been kept to protect the man who dwelled in the cellars below.

Something so fascinating would not have escaped Grandmother Lily's notice. Looking at her grandmother's excited face it seemed a safe bet the mirrors around the opera house would come in for some close inspections. On top of everything else now there would be the added worry that her grandmother would actually find out how to open one of the mirrors.

Before she could ask Meg anything her grandmother addressed Meg excitedly, "Oh Meg you simply must tell us all about it. We are so interested in all that happened here. Only in the interest of learning all about this man should he still be in residence of course. We would never dream of turning him over to the authorities." Lillian raised her voice when she said the last part of her statement. If he was near she wished for him to know no harm would come to him by her hand or Tamara's.

Turning to Tamara Lillian asked sternly, "Would we?"

Lillian disregarded Tamara's slight scowl. Deep in her heart she knew that whatever Tamara believed about their ghost, in her romantic heart of hearts there had to be a soft spot for the man who had suffered so much with very little happiness.

She had tried to keep the enthusiasm from her voice but excitement had taken over before she could quell her question about the mirror. Her faux paux had removed any chance of convincing Tamara that her only interest was the day to day running of the business.

Meg leaned forward to whisper into Tamara's ear, "Once, the first time Christine had been taken by the Phantom, I went looking for her in that dressing room you now occupy Tamara. The mirror stood open. Naturally I went into the passage behind it. I had only gone a little ways into the near darkness when Maman found me. Since then I have been forbidden to even think of trying to discover how to open that mirror." Meg cast an accusatory glance in her mother's direction. For the last year it had eaten away at her that perhaps but for her mother's interference that night, she could have found Christine and saved them a lot of trouble. She could have convinced Christine her angel had gone a little mad.

Meg knew herself to be less gullible than Christine. She would have been able to tell her sister that the voice from the shadows may sound heavenly but his demands had a very human reasoning behind them. He had wanted Christine all to himself so for years he had forbidden her to have any companions other than Meg and their mother.

After being taken to his home Christine had been made aware of his human side. He had not been pleasant or sane during the latter months he pursued Christine. Raoul had even taken Christine away for a few weeks but Christine had been unable to stay away. Her inability to leave the opera house or her tutor had likely prompted Raoul's dangerous scheme to capture the man.

"Meg, why must you persist in this? You of all people should know just how dangerous poking around down in the lower cellars can be." Antoinette had hoped she had put a stop to Meg's curiosity. Now she could see that Meg's anger about not being brought in on the secret had only fueled her curiosity about the man.

Erik had wanted to teach Meg at one time but Antoinette had thought it best for Meg to know as little as possible. Christine had been in a frame of mind to believe in angels whereas Meg had a more realistic view of life. She had not been one for flights of fancy as Christine had. Meg's interest in the Phantom had more to do with romanticizing the tale of the opera's specter.

"Maman, you forget it was I who first stepped foot into his home that night. I now know why you did not wish for me to go with Raoul. At the time I thought it ridiculous for you to expect me to hold off the wave of people surging forward intent on finding the Phantom. Well I couldn't hold them off so I let them sweep me along with them. I still have his mask you know. I tried to find him in that tunnel behind one of his smashed mirrors. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to return his mask to him."

Looking down at her plate Meg continued, "I think perhaps it had something to do with my own childish fantasies about the opera house ghost. What young girl does not have fantasies about a dark brooding figure coming to their rescue? We all see ourselves changing the darkness in those men who are a little less than perfect."

"Meg, I know exactly what you mean. The dark brooding hero such as Heathcliff or Mr. Rochester. Dark, brooding and filled with sexual allure that could seduce even the sourest old biddy into climbing into his bed."

"Grandmother! Please." Tamara could feel the heat rising to her face. She should be used to her grandmother's forthright speech by now but found she had not become inured to it as she had thought.

"Oh, pish-posh Tamara. I am sure they have heard far worse things being said aloud by the stagehands. Besides, I know you enjoyed all those novels that I gave to you. They have long ago lost their look of newness."

Tamara did not care for her grandmother informing the world at large of her secret passion for romance. Long ago she had decided if she could not have a real romance she would at least read about them. To the world she could not show that side of her for men would see it as a weakness and try to exploit what they thought to be a chink in her armor. If she had one she might have others. Her credibility would be lost. Everyone accepted that it was her that made all the real decisions concerning investments and not her assistant, but that acknowledgement would never be expressed out loud. They were happy to let the fabrication continue so long as they had no way to legally discourage the arrangement.

It would suit many of them to have something to use as proof that she had the same weakness as other women. Regardless of how successful she had been there were those who would always oppose women conducting their own business.

"As long as we are agreeing to speak freely there are a few questions I wish to ask." Lillian pushed her plate aside. All pretense of interest in food set aside as she settled more comfortably in her chair to begin her inquisition.

She ignored Tamara's whispered, "Who has agreed to anything?"

"Please, I beg of you Antoinette, tell me all the secrets of the opera house. I know the mirror opens and I also know you must know how to open it as well as find the home of our resident ghost."

Antoinette could feel all eyes turning toward her, even those she felt certain were peering out the eye holes in the large painting behind them. She dare not say too much. Erik would abhor all of this renewed interest in tracking him down. He did not care for snoops before and had less reason now to welcome them.

"Lillian, I cannot in good conscience give you information that might lead to an injury or worse. Please let the past stay where it belongs, firmly in the past." Anxiously Antoinette looked from Tamara to Lillian.

Tamara seemed willing to let this go but she could see by Lillian's furrowed brow she had deep thoughts going on in her head and Antoinette felt she knew all too well where those thoughts were leading the curious woman.

"Even if, and I say if mind you, he were still within the catacombs he would not welcome anyone down bellow the fourth cellar. If he is there I believe he will make himself known if he wants to continue to run the opera house." Antoinette could see her mistake as Tamara drew herself up straight in her chair.

"Let us know if he wishes to run the opera house? How absurd. If he wishes to be _employed_ he must make an appointment for an interview. We shall not pay heed to any notes. If he so much as threatens my grandmother or myself he shall be dealt with by extreme measures. All that nonsense of the Opera Ghost or Phantom will not frighten me or my grandmother. If he is such a coward that he cannot face us then he does not deserve our consideration for any position, not even a stagehand."

Oh, no, this would not set well with Erik at all. He would make himself known to them in some unpleasant manner. Antoinette wished she could tell them that more than likely Erik stood behind the wall at this very moment listening in on what they were saying. His eyes would be taking in every movement they made as his ears took in every syllable they spoke.

"Tamara, please be careful what you say." Antoinette made one last plea for them to be careful. She knew she had little hope of warning off either woman. One would do everything she could to find him while the other would defy him once he did make that first demand.

As it seemed obvious they would come to no agreement on just how this should be handled Antoinette mentally washed her hands of it all. She would be the go between once more if that is what Erik required but she prayed Tamara did not incur his displeasure from the very beginning.

The opera house needed this revitalization to succeed. It also needed no more scandals to bring the curiosity seekers or police down upon them. There was no telling what measures Erik would take if they defied him. Besides, if word of the Opera Ghost found its way out into the general populace it would not be long before it reached the ears of Christine and Raoul and heaven help them when and if that happened.

Erik contrary to what he had thought did not feel his ire rising to hear the young woman, Tamara, speak of him in such a negative way. Instead he felt only challenged by her to match his wits with her own and set off the temper he felt sure she possessed. He had seen only a little spark of it so far but wished to see her in glorious fury. That would be a sight to see. One he felt determined to bring forth. He wondered what method would work best. She would likely be even more beautiful with passion flushing her cheeks and her bosom heaving with every angry breath. Sexual arousal gripped him just imagining such a sight. He did not stop to ponder why he could think of another woman in such terms and not feel any disloyalty to Christine.

When Christine had left he felt she took his heart and all yearnings for love with her. Perhaps she had but that did not stop him from finding other women attractive. This one in particular he found fascinating. No longer would he deny his interest in her. It had been a futile endeavor in any case. Her image had not been far from Erik's mind since he had first laid eyes on her.

Yes, he would enjoy crossing swords with Mademoiselle Tamara Stern. Her name may imply she could not be made to feel anything of a gentler nature. With gentle persuasion he could bend her without breaking her spirit. To unleash all that fiery pent up emotion would reap many rewards for the man with the key to her passions.

If he went about it in the right way he could woo her from the shadows and in other ways that did not require that she see his face, at least not in full light or in its entirety. Had he not kept Christine in the dark for some twelve years? Of course this new woman and Christine were miles apart in personality and maturity. In years they were perhaps five or six years apart but in worldly knowledge he could see Mademoiselle Tamara would be far more interesting than…Could it be? No, surely not. Erik felt a little unsettled by the thoughts he had of Christine at the moment. Had he fooled himself about what he felt for Christine? No, his love had been genuine. If he had deluded himself in anything it had been Christine's ability to see beyond his deformity. He'd not make that mistake again.

He would take on this new woman and challenge himself by gaining her trust and perhaps fueling her passions. If he used what assets he did possess this could work very well. Erik silently tapped his finger to his forehead in a mocking salute as he trained his eyes upward. His lips stretched into a wicked smile which showed his perfectly straight white teeth. Any woman looking at him like this would find it hard to resist his allure.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**First Encounter**

Lillian had not even bothered to dress for bed. If she should be caught it would not be in her nightclothes. Leaning her ear against her door she could hear nothing coming from the other side. Cautiously she opened the door to peer out into the dimly lit hallway. At least it was not completely dark. She might have a better chance to see anyone lurking about. Of course if he used his usual ghostly tactics of spying from behind the walls there would not be an opportunity to catch sight of the man.

He could wait until she passed him then open a portion of the wall then do away with her and no one would know until morning. Lillian shivered with fear even though she didn't really think herself in any danger. There had never been any stories of the man harming a woman. There had been some wild tales of women being abducted for less than honorable intentions. No names had ever been given of any supposed victim. She tended to pass all of that nonsense off as embellishment by overly excited little girls seeking attention.

Likely they would never know all of what went on between that Daaé girl and her man of shadow. If what everyone said about that night they performed his opera, Don Juan Triumphant was true, there had been more than a mere teacher/student relationship between the two or one ready to blossom if it hadn't happened until that night.

Having heard the rumors of the man walking through walls and having it confirmed by Antoinette and Meg, Lillian surmised there must be panels which moved when the triggering mechanism had been engaged. The mirror in Tamara's room likely worked in the same manner. Later when she found an opportunity she would be checking out that mirror. For nearly an hour she had ran her hand over every inch of her own mirror with nothing being found.

Placing her hand against the wall Lillian began the arduous task of tapping the walls as well as running her hands over them to try to find any hint of a crack in the plaster. Having only traversed two hallways in as many hours she began to tire. Just when she would have turned dispiritedly away she heard a low ghostly voice coming from the wall directly behind her.

"Madame you tire already? How can you expect to find me with so little fortitude?" Lillian jumped when she heard the voice so suddenly after such quiet. She had to say his voice held all the sensual appeal it had been purported to contain. He sounded quite pleasant really, not threatening at all.

"Well if you must hide so completely with no clues to how you walk through walls it is to be expected that it will take time to learn all your secrets." Lillian felt miffed to have him speaking to her in such a deprecating manner.

"Madame has no one told you that to learn the secrets of the Phantom is to face certain death?" Erik found himself liking this brave woman for no apparent reason. After her first start of surprise she had not gone off screaming.

In fact she seemed unafraid of him at all. What he recalled of her when he had watched from behind the mirror and later from behind the picture in the dining hall, she had sounded as if she were intrigued by his notoriety.

He had correctly guessed that she would try to find him this evening after everyone had gone to bed. He had not expected her to rap upon nearly every inch of the wall as she searched for one of his hidden panels. Perhaps he should have addressed her when she first began the arduous task of searching for something that no one could find unless they knew the secret of his magical doors. If he had done that he would have missed the fun of having her searching so earnestly. Of course the walls were not magical really but scientific inventions. Some ideas he borrowed from other inventors and some were his own designs.

If he had not been enjoying her efforts so much he would have stopped her after the first few minutes. She had almost brought a smile of pleasure to his lips. That feat had become such a rare thing in his life that he treasured the few he could remember. Christine in her younger years had been the last person to have his lips spread in a genuine smile.

"Oh pish. If you intended to harm me I wouldn't even be aware of the lampoon lasso sliding around my neck."

"It is a Punjab lasso and you are correct. You would only know of it when until you felt it depriving you of your ability to breathe. What makes you feel immune to my wrath?" Erik tried to add a bit more threat in his tone but felt he had no heart for it really.

"It has never been reported with any bases in fact that you ever harmed a woman." Lillian spoke with conviction. Why she felt so positive still had not been made clear to her. She could find no justification for her belief in a man she did not know or had never seen. His disembodied voice coming from a wall had been her first contact with the Opera Ghost or as some would have it, Phantom of the Opera.

"I, unlike those other managers of this establishment, know you only want control over the artistic portion of the opera house, well at least now that the object of your affection has moved on."

As she heard what sounded like a deep inhalation she quickly said, "Pardon me if I have hurt you but it is no more than the truth. If your heart is still wounded I am sorry for mentioning your past pain."

The stab of pain he felt lasted only a few seconds. When first he had lost Christine every minute of every day had been filled with this pain. Now it only came at odd moments and in shorter duration.

"We…we will not speak of that if you please. Let us discuss why you would search for the Phantom."

"I am interested in your talents. Why you would become a blackmailer is beyond me. If you approached people in the normal way perhaps you might be offered a legitimate position. I myself am willing to offer you the title of artistic director with a salary of let us say of some three thousand francs a month, quite a bit more than most would earn in a year. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

At this ridiculous offer Erik did let out a loud laugh. She offered him three thousand francs a month when he had received twenty thousand from everyone else. He did admire her spunk even while he dismissed her paltry offering. As for being employed that would entail working face to face with others as well as having someone telling him what he could and could not do.

"Oh Madame you have done something no one has been able to do in quite some time. You have entertained me to the point of actually laughing out loud. I do so rarely find anything humorous. For that alone I shall not do anything to harm you."

Lillian huffed loudly as she said, "Well I am so glad to have been an entertainment to you. Now if you please, would you address the more serious issue of employment?"

"Madame you insult me. I am worth more than the paltry sum you offer. Has no one informed you that I had been paid 20,000 francs a month from every other manager of my opera house?"

"Why you arrogant fool. I'll not have any of your threats young man so you best not try anything. I think 3,000 francs is a fair offer. Would it not be more satisfactory to earn 3,000 francs legitimately rather than have 20,000 francs handed over to you for no other reason than you have frightened those who gave in to you?"

Erik could not believe her naiveté. Apparently she knew nothing of how criminals worked or thought. As to feeling anything other than pleasure to have duped everyone he could honestly say he did not feel any guilt for having taken anything from anyone. His only twinge of guilt concerned Antoinette, Meg and of course Christine. Through his actions they had been made to suffer.

"Madame you are ill-informed if you think I have any sympathy for anyone. My life has not given me any reason to feel anything other than hatred."

"But what about Chris…" Lillian stopped and jumped when she heard a loud thunderous pounding from behind the wall.

"Madame you are venturing closer to feeling my ire demonstrated in a very painful manner. I have asked you not to mention her and if you do so again it will not be pleasant…for either of us."

Lillian swallowed in real fright now. The pleasant seductive tones of before had been replaced by something that sounded very evil with a real threat for violence held marginally in check. Now she had a better idea of how those people had let him bully them all those years. If she had not heard him only moments ago speaking so reasonably she would not know he had a softer side. She did not wish to drive him away after only just meeting him or rather speaking to him. So much depended on his good graces she had to keep him appeased without giving in to his every demand.

"I am sorry. I have no wish to rub salt into an open wound. Let me just say that time will eventually heal you no matter what you think now. When I lost my dear Jackson I believed my life to be over. In time though, I took an interest in life once more. Tamara and my daughter had been a great comfort to me. Tamara still gives me strength to carry on after the loss of my only daughter. Loss is something that comes to all of us. We each think in terms of our own tragedy but others have suffered no less and some even more. I really am sorry if I caused you any discomfort. That was not my intention."

Lillian paused to give him a chance to reply if he wished. She could hear nothing coming from the wall. She began to feel slightly ridiculous standing in this hallway speaking to a wall. If anyone came along they'd alert everyone that the new owner had clearly lost her mind. They'd likely blame it on the ghost.

Tapping on the wall gently Lillian called softly, "Monsieur Opera Ghost? Monsieur Phantom?"

Erik could not speak again as his emotions got the better of him. It had been quite some time since he had shed tears for Christine. After a bout of tears he always felt less of a man. To have this woman bring them about angered him. She could spout off about having suffered pain but no one had suffered what he had over his lifetime. Not wishing to listen to her or to speak to her, Erik turned and fled back toward the safety of his lair.

After many minutes had passed with no more sounds coming from the wall Lillian concluded the man had rudely left without so much as a hint he had been taking his leave. She supposed it was her own fault really. She should not have mentioned Christine. He must not be over the girl even after all this time. Lillian felt sympathy for the poor dear man. What must it be like to pine so long for someone knowing in your heart you could never have that person?

Lillian turned resolutely back toward her room. This evening had settled the debate in her mind once and for all. The man needed a new interest and Tamara needed any interest other than business. If they were not suited as lovers at least they might find their intellects were a match. Perhaps if they could not find in the other that something which drew them together romantically they might at least strike up a friendship, well they would if she could keep them from going at one another's throats. Tamara she knew could be obstinate and the man in question could be unpredictable as well as volatile.

As she dropped down onto her bed Lillian sighed heavily. She had set herself quite a task; getting two people together who wanted nothing to do with love or courtship. Lillian prayed she had not misread the man. Even if half the things she knew about him were true he had not been an upstanding citizen. She could not say why she had the notion Tamara and this man were in someway meant to meet.

Lillian thought it had been no accident she had happened upon that newspaper with the article about the Opera Ghost and the opera house. The first article over a year ago about some trouble at L'Opéra Populaire had caused her to correspond more often with her friend in Paris, which led to a deepening interest in the entire affair. It had come at a time when she and Tamara both needed something in their lives that would challenge them.

Everything happened for a reason. She could only hope her romantic nature had not misinterpreted what God's plan was for them.

**A/N: So now Lillian has met her Opera Ghost, sort of. She does think of him as her own, as in he lives within her property and maybe considers him one of the fixtures that came with her purchase. LOL Lillian is the kind of grandmother we all wish could be a part of our own dear loved one.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Watching**

Tamara got out of bed stretching as she yawned widely. Not a very ladylike thing to do but no one could see so she enjoyed this little rebellion. As was her usual practice she slept without any clothing. This too had become a form of private rebellion. Something about slipping between freshly washed sheets while nude seemed very decadent.

Often times she would do things in private she wished she could do when in company. Being restricted by what others thought she should do stifled her. Of course nudity would not be something she did in front of others just as an occasional cigarette could be enjoyed in private, not that she really cared for the vile tasting things to begin with.

The slipping of the covers unbarred her breasts to the cool room temperature. Feeling the tightening of her nipples reminded her that her room had gone chilly. She looked over at the fireplace. There were coals gleaming through the through the grey ash. She'd have to see about having a gas stove installed or perhaps some steam heat in this room. Every other room had those modern conveniences. Why had this room been left out? A noise coming from the direction of her mirror drew her attention. Now there were rats crawling around in the walls. She'd need to see if they employed a rat catcher. If not, that would be a priority. She would not have those beady eyed things roaming about in her room or anywhere she might run into one.

Getting out of bed she stretched once more before donning her robe. She needed to bathe then dress which would require more than her own two hands, what with having to struggle with lacing up that darn corset. If it did not make her feel feminine and shapely when she wore it she would forgo wearing one. She never tightened it as tightly as other women did their own corsets. She preferred to breathe. She may wish to work in a man's world but her femininity wanted to be all woman. Leaving her room Tamara went to run her bath not knowing a pair of green eyes watched in mesmerized wonder.

Later Tamara would recall that a certain ghost had a birds-eye view of her room. She would blush as she imagined just how much of her the man could see of her unless he had gone suddenly blind. Perhaps a sheet over the thing during private moments would ease her mind.

Erik had been on his way to the dining hall so he might scrounge some fresh bread when his feet had detoured in the direction of Christine's old room. He tried to tell himself it was out of habit not for any other reason. The new occupant held little appeal for him other than a means to an end. He steadfastly ignored the need to repeat this over and over to himself like a mantra.

When he had first arrived the woman, Mademoiselle Tamara, had been just waking. Shock had held him in place at first to see her rise with bared shoulders above the blankets. As her arms went up above her head to stretch the blankets had fallen to reveal her perfectly formed bared breasts. Now he had seen pictures of such things, had even drawn a few of his own but nothing compared to reality. If he were a dog he would be salivating like a dog gazing upon a particularly savory bone.

If he were a true gentleman he would have turned away. Indeed he had been going to do just that when the beast inside his engorged manly parts had protested. The lecherous beast inside had wanted to feast his eyes on such bounty. Rarely did he ever get such an opportunity. Who would know if he took such a liberty other than himself?

In his younger days he had been too afraid to steal a peek at the women in the dressing rooms. Later it had not seemed honorable. Just when he had come of an age to say to hell with honor Christine had come claiming him as her angel. He could not bear to think of disappointing her if she should ever discover he had been less than what she expected. Later it had not mattered so much as he had fallen for Christine and could not even think of looking at anyone else. Christine's innocence had kept him from doing anything dishonorable behind her mirror or anywhere women were apt to be unclothed.

Well now he had gazed his fill and felt as hard as granite for his shameful actions. For the first time he had seen a woman's form from head to toe without the benefit of any covering. Her image would forever be imprinted in his memory. He had savored every second as he had looked upon her bare flesh. If he were a less honorable man he would have gone into that room and taken what he wanted and there would have been nothing she could have done to stop him. He would have been gone long before anyone thought to check why she had not shown up for breakfast. Or better yet, he could have taken her with him to explore her more thoroughly and not with just his eyes. Before his resolve could weaken Erik hurried back down the passageway as if something nipped at his heels. The lusty beast within protested the whole way.

His breath coming in gasps from his long hurried flight, Erik sank inelegantly into one of the few chairs the mob had not completely made unusable. Now that he had time to collect his thoughts without his mind being focused on the beautiful Mademoiselle Tamara's stunning attributes he found himself drifting back to his idea of wooing the woman. Sitting up straight in the chair he leaned forward to rest his chin on his two fists.

He was not without charm. Seduction had come easily for him as long as he could do it from the shadows. He had the gift for flowery romantic words. If he always made sure the lighting did not reveal his face he just might be able to pull it off. Of course he could never take things to a final conclusion as other men did but he would have the satisfaction of knowing he had successfully won a woman's regard. He would only end things when she professed her willingness to come to him of her own free will.

Would her acquiescence not in some way appease that part of him that still felt demeaned by Christine? Could he not use her to gain back some small part of his manhood? What would it hurt? She would in the end know exactly the kind of man he was and that she had been duped. It would not be an unending life of pain for her as it was for him as she had other alternatives. She would find someone to ease her sorrow while he could not. Perhaps in doing this he would find some sort of justification, some balancing of the injustices that had been perpetrated against him all his life.

Antoinette of course would not approve. He would have to endure her displeasure a multiple number of times. That he could endure knowing he would in the end find some gratification. The blow Christine had delivered to his manhood could be assuaged even if only slightly. If he could find a way for all of France to know that he, the Opera Ghost and Phantom had romanced a woman successfully then he had been the one to reject her would that not give him some of his lost esteem back?

This would take much planning. The woman at present had no liking for him. Her grandmother on the other hand may prove to be useful. He could not now accept her offer too hastily as it may seem suspicious. He would need to learn all he could about Tamara. For a moment he savored the sound of her unusual name on his tongue. He could not help but wonder how it would sound during the heat of passion. Better still, how would his name sound coming from Mademoiselle Tamara's lips spoken with passionate ardor?

A surge of blood to his manhood he ignored as he thought of watching her from behind the mirror in the future. It would be necessary and not from any voyeuristic tendencies that he would stand and look in upon her. Observance of ones quarry made the hunt all the more easy later on.

Perhaps she may even inspire his creativity again. What woman would not relish having been the muse to an artist's creations? Christine had been pleased when he sang or played something new for her. In later years when his music had become more seductive she had seemed uncomfortable even a little enthralled when she listened to him play or sing. At times his very graphic words made her blush furiously. Her heaving breasts had given away her arousal. During those sessions he had been tested to stay his beastly urges. He had let himself believe she knew why his creations were of a sultry nature. Innocently she had not had any idea they were all inspired by her and written with her in mind. Every note and word had been a way to speak of his want and love for her without speaking them to her directly. At times he had felt she returned his feelings. Perhaps if he had not been so demanding, so crazed with love he could have won her. Now he would never know for sure as he had let his mind venture into insane avenues.

With Tamara he must make certain to at all times keep his head if he wished to succeed. He could not let himself ever develop real feelings for her. To do so would lead him back to the darkness of the beast that lurked within his soul. That place he had decided should be left locked securely and never allowed to see the light of day again.

Over the next week Erik returned to his watch at the mirror to be met with black obscurity as the damn woman had placed something over the mirror. She'd not get the better of him. There were other ways to observe the occupant of that room. He had peep holes around the room and in the adjoining water closet. The field of vision may not be as perfect as the mirror but needs suffice. Every morning he had been blessed with the sight of Tamara's nude form. He began to compare her to the Venus de Milo statue he had once seen. Aphrodite had been another perfect womanly form that came to mind.

As hard as he tried not to become obsessed, he found himself anxious to see her during the day and dreaming of her at night. This would not do at all. He must do something to stop this before it got out of hand. To aid in his campaign to keep his emotions in check Erik left a note on Madame Palmentar's desk stating his salary of 20,000 francs had not been paid. In fact the arrears of some 60,000 francs would be payable on demand and he demanded payment forthwith. The grand total as of this letter he calculated would be 80,000 francs. In two weeks another 20,000 would be due. If some sort of recompense had not been given to his liaison, Madame Giry,there would be unpleasant consequences. He would give them a week to decide then whatever happened would be on their head not his.

Erik really did not relish beginning all that terror business once more. He had lost heart for it when Christine had accused him of being distorted within his soul. He did enjoy the reaction of Madame Palmentar. She once again tried to find one of his passages. He had half a mind to deliberately leave one cracked just to see how she reacted. It amused him no end to have her leaning her ear against the walls while calling out for the Opera Ghost. Mademoiselle Tamara, the wicked woman, called him an assortment of names not fit to cross the lips of a lady. He began to suspect that given proper circumstances Tamara would be very unladylike.

The interaction between Tamara and her grandmother reminded Erik just how alone he had always been. Much to his consternation he found himself jealous of their close relationship. Antoinette and Meg had a similar familial regard. At one time he had thought Christine as a sort of surrogate family member although he had never openly defined just what role he wished for her to play. Once the beauty of her voice and face had entralled him only having her at his side as his wife and lover seemed satisfactory.

Often he would catch himself saying Tamar's name out loud so he could taste her name passing his lips. Contrarily his prey had elected to remove whatever she had used to cover the mirror. She had taken to wearing gowns to bed. Nothing glamourous or the least bit seductive but for all her attempts to downplay her attractions he found himself all the more stimulated by her utter innocence contrasting with what he knew she hid under such deceptively pure garments. The time he spent behind the mirror lasted longer and longer. Observing her sleeping form would gain him nothing in his bid to woo her but he ignored that fact completely. So many plans whirled around in his head he at times felt quite like a drunken stagehand. He must begin his campaign soon or he may just do something everyone would regret.

First he must redo his home. Not rebuild it as it had been, no this time it would be as magnificent as any home above. He would spare no expense. He would not bring his prey there until everything had been decorated to perfection. Other areas of the opera house were secluded enough for seduction. Did not half the employees conduct clandestine meetings in them? All he needed to do would be to haunt a few select places and those fools would scamper away like frightened rabbits. Then he could have those chosen areas to himself and the lady of his choice of course.

Erik felt very amused when Madame Palmentar tried to bypass Antoinette by leaving him a note in box five. She steadfastly refused to give him any restitution for any supposed salary he had been owed by the former owners. She would be glad to discuss his employment and payment for such when he came to his senses. The woman played a dangerous game, at least if he were of a mind to harm a woman. He would not harm her directly but things could happen in an opera house that could make the opening night a nightmare for all concerned. Oddly at the end of her note she had been informal enough to enquire as to his health and wish for his continued occupancy of her opera house. He had to smile when he read the part inviting him to tea at his convenience. As if he would accept such an invitation. Ah, but what we say we want and what we actually want are two very different things. He must stick to the plan and commit a few harmless pranks.

Indeed things did happen. Unexplained slipups in orders for fabrics were discovered. Costumes were changed. What once would fit a much larger man now would hardly fit a youth. Strings on the instruments were cut mysteriously while in the orchestra pit. Dead rats were found in the oddest places, places where they were sure to illicit the greatest reaction from the younger members of the chorus and ballet corps.

Tamara and her grandmother disagreed on how to handle this new rash of disruptions. Her grandmother wanted to negotiate terms while Tamara wanted him to agree to all of her demands or leave. Privately Tamara hoped she did not run the man off before she at least got a glimpse of him. More than anything she found herself wishing to meet him face to face at least once before he disappeared. This little bit of subterfuge she must keep to herself as her grandmother would take it as a sign that something may be developing between her Opera Ghost and her granddaughter at least so far as Tamara herself was concerned. Who knew what the elusive Ghost thought or wanted.

Rehearsals had only just begun and already things were being derailed. The poor woman who had taken Christine's position had found several dead rats in her bath that had been drawn by her maid. Makeup had been tampered with so when applied to the face it turned the skin orange. Perfume had been replaced with something that smelled as vile as something from the sewers. Most of the witnesses to this seemed to find humor in the deed just as they had found humor in the replacement of Carlotta's throat spray during a performance that had her sounding as if she belonged in a frog pond rather than on stage.

While all of this had nuisance value it did not give Tamara the impression the man behind all of these pranks intended to do any lasting harm. Despite the fact that his pranks caused a disruption as well as money, Tamara could not help but be secretly amused by some of the things the man came up with to annoy them. Several times she had to cover her mouth pretending to cough as outright laughter had bubbled up inside of her. She had not missed Grandmother Lily's smile as she cast her glance around the area looking for signs of her ghost.

Tension among the staff and performers could be felt as if something of real form surrounded them. Everyone knew the antics to be the Phantom but they felt he must have someone helping him as he could not be in all places at the same time. Erik's genius in matters of science and illusion were not common knowledge. Antoinette could have told them how intelligent their ghost was just as she had told Raoul.

Madame Giry had been exonerated as she had been on stage when many of the pranks had been perpetrated. Meg told Tamara and Lillian of all the mysterious things that had happened throughout the years whenever one of the managers tried to refuse a demand the Opera Ghost made. Back then they had thought the two specters haunting the opera house were separate beings. Now of course they knew it to be not any ghost or phantom at all but a crazed, lonely and disfigured man. Or at least the less superstitious believed him to be an ordinary man and not some visitor from the afterlife or sent from hell to steal their souls. The more simple-minded still thought the place to be haunted.

Erik listened to all the speculation about whether or not he still haunted the place as a real ghost this time or as he had before. He felt he should have them believing him to be reaching out from the grave. Theatre people were very superstitious and easily convinced that every accident had the hand of one of the two apparitions committing the mischievous deeds. He could not fathom anyone being so easily lead as to believe in ghosts or even phantoms. It furthered his cause that they did believe. Christine, poor child that she had been, had been all to easily led to believe in her Angel of Music for many years. Christine while not lacking in intelligence had possessed a spirit of childlike wonder far beyond when other young girls still believed in fairy tales. Tamara would not have been duped by him. She would have given him a real challenge. Adrenaline coursed through him just thinking about the times ahead when they would clash. How he might end those encounters had other parts of him ready to perform in ways other than as combatants.

Fearing the worst rumors began to fly about making their way through the staff. Tamara and her grandmother worried people would begin to leave due to this man's nefarious pranks. Contrarily the more they spoke of fear the less fear they actually showed when something did occur. They showed more excitement than anything. Now everyone looked about expectantly hoping to get a glimpse of their elusive Phantom.

As much as Tamara did not want to consider giving in to blackmail perhaps they could come to a more reasonable amount for the man's continued good graces. Never would Tamara have thought any of this had been done by some ghost or phantom as the theatre people were apt to believe. Christine she could excuse because she had been an extremely naïve and innocent young woman according to Antoinette and Meg.

Had not Antoinette confirmed that the man who had taken Pianji's place and the Opera Ghost were one and the same? The title Phantom of the Opera could be laid at his door as well. It did not matter what name they called him all Tamara knew for certain was he was a man and not a ghost. If she had secret desires concerning him that was between her and her own conscience.

Antoinette would not confirm whether or not the man from before still lurked in the shadows or if some other person had been using the tale of the Opera Ghost and Phantom to bleed money from the new owners. It worried her that thus far Erik had received nothing. In the past his pranks had escalated to more violent acts if he did not get his way. Erik had assured her that his past exploits of a more dangerous nature would not be repeated and she had believed him. So far he had kept to his word but just as other men, Erik had a breaking point and honestly his point of control had always been far shorter than anyone she knew.

All Antoinette would say on the matter when asked is that the man had not been seen or heard of since the night of the fire. Her loyalty to Erik would not allow her to betray him again. As long as he kept things to harmless pranks that did not endanger anyone she would keep silent about his whereabouts. Tamara and Lillian had not let it be known that notes had begun to be left for them in their office and their rooms.

Meg had her suspicions but would not now betray her mother or the man she protected. Her mother had convinced her of his changed attitude. She had promised Meg no one would ever be hurt by him again. She felt horrible for keeping such a secret from Tamara and Lillian, but had no choice in the matter. She had to remain loyal to her mother. So far only innocent pranks had been committed. They were an annoyance but harmless. Only if he returned to violent acts would she alert Tamara of the man's presence. She may even remember the way to his home assuming he had not changed the passageway. In the old days he had been known for changing the lower levels of the opera house. All they could do at the moment would be to wait and hope he could be dealt with in an agreeable manner.

Why Tamara had not shared her knowledge of the notes with Meg she passed off as wanting as few people involved as possible. Grandmother Lillian kept her own counsel for her own reasons. Tamara felt certain Antoinette knew of those notes as she had likely placed them so they might be found. She did not see Antoinette's silence on the matter as any sort of disloyalty. Her allegiance naturally belonged to the man, once a small boy in her care.

Lillian could not have planned things any better if she had orchestrated the notes herself. Tamara would stubbornly deny any demands made in this fashion thus forcing her Opera Ghost to confront Tamara. As most of the notes had been delivered to her granddaughter it did seem the man had more of an interest in Tamara than he had in an older woman, one who owned the place under which he dwelled. It had not gone unnoticed that Tamara seemed far too excited, and not in a bad way, whenever she found a note. She would clutch it to her chest then run to some private spot to read it. Her face would glow with a red tide of color. Not anger as would be expected either. The smile quirking at the corner of her mouth gave away her true feelings.

Yes, things were going according to plan. Now if the darn man would just allow her to find one of his passages they could discuss just how to go about winning a woman in a proper fashion.


	10. Chapter 10

**Tamara Stern/23**

**Rutherford Taylor-grandmother's lawyer**

**Lillian Palmentar(60)-Tamara's grandmother Jackson Palmentar-Lillian's husband/deceased**

**Magnus Stern/Tamara's father Georgina Stern/Tamara's mother/both deceased**

**David Carmichael/Tamara's assistant Lauren Michaels David's fiancée **

**Chapter Ten**

**Bargain With the Devil**

Sitting at the desk in the manager's office she had claimed for herself. Tamara refused to give credence to the possibility someone watched over her at this very moment. Now would be one of those occasions when another's company would not be an annoyance. Even though Lillian had a desk here the chair behind it rarely got warmed by the dear lady's behind. Her grandmother's desk she thought had been more for show than actual use. When in the office her grandmother sat on a comfortable chair with several others grouped around. A convenient table sat nearby from which tea could be served or if one were in a mood to flaunt propriety it served as a prop for aching feet.

Much of the business side of things had been neglected of late. Messieurs Andre and Firmin while very successful in the scrap metal business, their skills as managers of this opera house had been a miserable failure, and not only because of that Phantom business.

Again that cold shiver traveled up and down her spin. Hunching her shoulders feeling that now familiar tingling right in the center of her back, with an angry huff of air, she blew a few stray hairs off her forehead. Nothing on this green earth would bring her to glance over her shoulder. If that fiend watched her he would get no satisfaction from it. Within a few days of their arrival the dratted man had Antoinette delivering a note warning he would be sending notes. If nothing else he could claim to be thorough and methodical in his haunting.

In her hands she held the third note of demand from the delusional man who claimed to be the Opera Ghost. The others were strewn across her desk. Some notes he signed O.G which she assumed were meant to represent Opera Ghost. Then there were those notes signed Phantom. While his penmanship some would say to be only mediocre, he did have a certain flair with words.

The insolent so and so asked to be paid not twenty thousand francs but thirty thousand francs. Because his demands had gone unmet the ante had been upped. Not satisfied with disrupting rehearsals and thereby delaying opening night, now to further add stress, a demand for an outrageous salary had been demanded, one which had not been earned in the least.

All those who had been here when Christine Daaé had been singing on the stage, still believed them to be haunted by the grieving ghost of her rejected lover. Tamara did not believe in that nonsense but all of this aggravation he caused kept them behind schedule. In this business time meant money. She would not let her grandmother's ill-advised investment go asunder. Not believing in ghosts or phantoms did not negate any clever displays the man chose to let employees witness during the work day.

Success of a theatre depended upon productions that were presented to the public on time and under budget or as close to that as one could get. She had lost count of the notes that dratted man had left. Being of a sound mind Tamara would never let herself be duped into thinking very human activities were the work of a ghost. Even without the newspapers, Antoinette and Megs testimony that there had never been a supernatural specter people would believe what they wished.

Something drastic would have to be done to find this man and drive him from the building. She really didn't feel as if it were necessary to bring the authorities into this. Tamara would not admit she felt a twinge of pity for the man. Who's to say what one would do if put in a similar situation? Love made fools of us all at one time or another. That voice inside her head disclaiming any such thing she repressed. Love, the kind of love between a man and a woman had never touched her.

A knock at the door brought a sigh from her lips. With her thoughts being on matters other than the running of the theatre and all the interruptions Tamara felt trying to work today would be useless. Calling out for the person to enter she was taken aback when a young boy came in with a very large bouquet of flowers. Never had she seen so many different varieties in one presentation. The heady aroma could already be smelled as it filled the room. Try as she might she could think of no one who would send her flowers, at least not of this magnitude. Her grandmother occasionally sent her a small bouquet for her birthday if they could not be together for the whole day.

Smiling widely with a gap-toothed grin the boy holding the flowery offering said in broken English, "Mademoiselle Tamara Stern? I am Michel, he say to give these to you. He give me note for you."

Tamara watched as he dug around in his jacket pocket then triumphantly held an envelope aloft for her to see. He handed it to her still smiling his charming smile. Taking the offering from his hand she leaned forward to press her face among the heavenly blossoms. How lovely they smelled. They must have been cut recently to still have so much perfume coming from them.

As she would have handed him a coin for bringing her the flowers he shook his head vehemently saying in a whisper, "No, no. He say I no take money from you. He pay. He pay me plenty. He say he watch me. If I take money he cut off my ears. I no cross Monsieur Phantom. No one cross that one and live to tell of it."

Looking around as if he expected someone to jump out at any second he began to back out of the room. Once at the door he turned and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Confused by what the boy had said Tamara sat down behind her desk placing the bouquet in front of her. Using a letter opener she warily opened the envelope. She didn't know what she expected but it certainly was not what she got.

A fine quality piece of paper slid out of the upturned envelope. She stared at it for a moment not knowing quite what to do. Upon the paper she could see the familiar red writing with the black trim around the edges. Unlike the other notes he sent, this one had not been sealed with a red skull made of wax and his method of delivery had altered. Antoinette had been nowhere in sight.

Instead of pictures of bodies hanging from nooses and knives as well as swords dripping with blood, this one had only whimsical hearts and flowers surrounding a passage from a paragraph taken from Shakespeare's sonnet number 18. It had long been a favorite of Tamara's. She kept a copy of Shakespeare's writings on her desk in her room. A bookmark always kept the page clearly marked for easy reading.

She read the lines as she let her mind try to find a meaning for all of this.

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And oft' is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Bringing the paper to her face she inhaled deeply. The heady aroma had her inhaling again to savor this strangely intoxicating aroma. Nothing she had ever come across smelled so heavenly. Not a womanly fragrance at all but something well suited for a man.

Catching site of an all too familiar signature at the bottom returned Tamara to reality. What this could possibly mean she had no idea but she would be wary. All she had heard of the man lead her to believe him to be a man of little honor but filled with deceit and trickery. As a peace offering it could be said to be over the top.

Sniffing the paper once more she forced herself to place it on her desk. Eyeing the flowers she had half a mind to toss them into the rubbish pail but could not justify destroying something so beautiful. After all, the flowers were innocent of any wrongdoing.

"Mademoiselle Stern, the flowers are to your liking? I could not settle on one blossom alone to compare to your own beauty. I must say the bouquet does pale in comparison."

Erik cursed when he saw her nearly fall out of the desk chair to hear his voice coming from some unknown direction. He made sure the acoustics in the walls and ceilings of this office would confuse the listener unless he chose to be found.

"I must apologize for my dramatic way of addressing you Mademoiselle. Might I have your permission to call you Tamara? Such a lovely name, it sounds quite exotic."

She tried not to let his voice sway her better judgment. She felt the pull of his seductive tones deep within her feminine core. Lord above how had that young innocent Christine Daaé managed to resist his powerful presence even without being in the room? Reminders of his misdeeds may be her lifesaver.

She gripped the material at her bodice as if to hide the telltale pounding of her heart as well as the unwanted response she felt in her breasts. This would not do at all. The man had committed horrible crimes. He continued to perpetrate annoying pranks which cost precious funds her grandmother could not afford. He refused to leave that which was not his to have.

"It is not me you owe an apology to, it is my grandmother. Your childish antics have caused delays which cost money she does not have. I will need to arrange for another transfer of funds from my accounts to hers just to cover the payroll and I find it highly inappropriate for us to be on first name terms on such short acquaintance." She hoped he did not know she addressed Antoinette and Meg by their first names as they did her. She must keep this on a professional level no matter what her heart wished.

She stood and folded her arms across her chest as she asked, "You make a demand that we pay you a salary of thirty thousand francs. What will you do for such an amount? That is more than any other legitimate employee makes in a year. I will not have my grandmother bullied by a man who needs to grow up and stop hiding behind walls making threats."

"Mademoiselle Stern, I fear you do not take me seriously." Erik felt anger rising within him. She spoke of him as if he were a child throwing a tantrum to get his way. He provided a legitimate service to the opera house. He kept crime among the employees to a minimum, men who showed themselves to be lechers were dealt with swiftly and harshly, he offered his excellent advice concerning what should be performed as well as who should be hired to perform on his stage.

"Mademoiselle Stern if you spoke to the former owners or any of the employees who were here before I am certain you have been well informed of just what my services have been in the past. For your sake I hope you are not contemplating ignoring what is owed to me." He would win this negotiation not by force as he threatened but by wooing her, if the little vixen would cooperate.

Tamara felt a twinge of something she would not name when he reverted to addressing her as Mademoiselle Stern even if she had denied him permission to address her otherwise. Tamara had sounded so…so…well it had sounded unlike any other persons tone when speaking her name. It had a melodic quality when it rolled off his tongue. Shaking her head at such foolish thoughts she forced herself to focus on the important matters and not some idiotic notion how very pleasant his voice sounded.

"It is hard to take someone seriously when they hide behind walls pretending to be a ghostly phantom. I will only discuss business with a man not some disembodied voice."

"Well then we must meet face to face. Come to the rooftop at ten tonight. Please come alone. I give you my word as a gentleman no harm shall befall you. I only wish to grant your wish to see the man you are dealing with. Until then Mademoiselle I bid you adieu."

"But…but wait. I haven't agreed to any meeting and why the rooftop at ten?" Only silence greeted her question.

"Hello? Monsieur Opera Ghost? Hello? Oh this is ridiculous." Angrily sitting back down in her chair she said aloud just in case he played some trick by not answering, "Very well I will be on the roof at the appointed time. This behavior is exactly the sort of childishness I spoke of earlier."

Still there was no reply forthcoming. He had gone as suddenly as he had come. As her mind whirled with what she would wear Tamara repeated to herself this meeting would be nothing but business. She managed to stay in the office a few more minutes pretending to co over the books all the while her eyes wandered to the lovely bouquet directly across from her. In her mind she replayed just what he had said in just the tone he had spoken every word.

She did not dwell on the fact that she could recall with crystal clarity their whole conversation

Telling herself it was only to judge his intentions that she had paid such close attention to the man's words and not because they had felt as if they traveled along her skin as a caressing hand would do.

Her grandmother of course would need to be told. It would take great finessing to discourage her grandmother's interest in tagging along. If the man had not specified she come alone, Tamara would have no compunction about bringing her grandmother along with her or half the Parisian police force. As it was she would just have to await the end of the meeting to learn what her nemesis had in mind.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Well darn. I got so few reviews for the last chapter. I do hope I am not losing readers. The traffic indicates I am getting hits so I guess these last few chapters have been ho hum. Maybe a little Erik action will spice things up. **

**Chapter Eleven**

**Progression of Plans **

Contrary to what she had expected her grandmother showed no interest in joining Tamara when she met with their Opera Ghost. This lack of interest worried Tamara as she knew this tactic all too well to believe this calm acceptance of not getting a visual look at the man she had been trying to find since they had stepped foot in the opera house.

Her grandmother had not said a word about whether or not she had been addressed by the man or not. That would be one of Tamara's questions during this meeting tonight. She would also be settling a few things concerning his demands and his disruptive antics. He had not presented himself to be of unsound mind when he had spoken to her earlier. Refusing to linger too long on that conversation lest it influence her now she forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand.

Wanting to have a clearer picture in her mind of her opponent Tamara had dug out all the newspaper clippings she had brought with her. Several articles included drawings by artists who drew what others described to them shortly after the disaster as well as the one by the artist and reporter on one of the more in-depth renderings.

She dismissed the notion she wished to have a face to go with the very seductive voice that had come from the man pretending to be of a ghostly nature. Tonight at least would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt they dealt with a man and not an apparition.

Lillian wanted very much to accompany Tamara tonight but in order to progress her plans she must allow the two some time to become acquainted. She did plan to sit at the top of the stairs with a poker in her hand just in case of an emergency. From all she knew of him this man could become violent if crossed but he had a romantic whimsical side as well. A person who created such wonderful compositions could not have a completely blackened heart. There had to be good in him somewhere. It only needed the right person to bring it out. Tamara she felt to be that person.

She still felt a little miffed the man had not seen the advantage of signing on as her legitimate employee rather than continue this ghost nonsense. Understanding he may not be comfortable among the hordes living within the opera house walls they could come to some arrangement if the dratted man would only see reason.

For several days now she had tried to corner Antoinette but the woman turned tail and went the opposite direction whenever Lillian approached her. Meg had become a little less forthcoming as well. Lillian suspected that had been her mother's doing if she were still trying to protect the man she had saved as a child.

As a shiver ran down her spine Lillian now wished she had opted to carry on this conversation in some other place than Tamara's rooms. Feeling eyes upon her she began to search out from where he might be spying on them. Tamara still covered the mirror if she wanted to be assured of privacy.

The mirror would have been her first guess but it stood to reason he might have other spying methods. Meg had told her the mirror could be seen through if light were directly behind the mirror. If he wanted to listen in or observe during waking hours, such as now, he could hardly stand there with a lantern close at hand without being discovered.

Lillian squinted at the wall where a portrait of some patron of the opera house hung beside the fireplace. By George she did believe she saw an eye peeping out of a small hole in the picture where a painted eye should have been. Well if the ghost wished to eavesdrop he should be prepared for whatever happened when discovered. Bending down to poke at the fire Lillian picked up a handful of grey ash from the bucket at the side of the mantel. Let him try to peep at women in their boudoir blinded by ash. Calmly she walked over to the wall pretending to look closely at the picture hanging just to the left of the fireplace. This close the attractive green eye clashed with the brown eye of the man in the portrait. She smiled as she imagined how difficult it would be not to betray your presence by so much as a blink while another person stared at you fixedly.

Lifting her hand Lillian blew the ash toward the wall much to her granddaughter's shock. They both heard the curses coming from within the walls. Lillian smiled in satisfaction as she dusted her hands together.

"Grandmother Lily what…"

"Well if he wants to pretend to be a ghost and spy let him suffer the consequences. Did I not make the offer for him to show himself so we could discuss his employment? Now I shall think harder on the matter and will be offering him much less than I would have when I did not know him to be a voyeur. Imagine spying on us in your bedroom.

I shall have a very strong conversation with him once we meet face to face. One thing I will not tolerate is a man letting his baser instincts control his behavior or using fear of him to his advantage. One has to wonder how long this sort of thing has been going on. Was spying how he began pursuing that Daaé woman?"

"Grandmother…" Tamara stopped speaking as her grandmother lead her across the room putting her finger to her lips to signal she should remain quiet. Once they had gone to the far side of the room Tamara began to speak again although in a much quieter tone.

"Grandmother you are perfectly aware of how he and Mademoiselle Daaé became acquainted. Are you not in the least concerned that you just blinded the infamous Opera Ghost or as some would have him, the Phantom of the Opera?" Tamara had second thoughts about this meeting tonight. As for his spying into her room, she had suspected he would spy at some point today. Covering the mirror had been a defiant act on her part. He had other means of seeing and hearing what he wished. Really she could not find it in her to resent him at this point, not with any real rancor.

She wished she could assure her grandmother that he would only spy on a woman perhaps as she read a book or other innocuous acts. Why she wished to protect him seemed to suggest that more than mere liking came into play where this man was concerned. What she have done was reveal just how lecherous the man could be and send the authorities after him. The thought of him languishing in a jail cell or worse squeezed her heart painfully.

"Pish posh. He is merely a man playing at being something he is not so he might frighten everyone into giving in to him. Well I refuse to be bullied. I'd have more respect for him if he came at me face to face rather than all this cloak and dagger nonsense." Lillian spoke a little louder just in case he remained at his post. She imagined he had scurried back to his home to care for his damaged eye.

"It is precisely the cloak and daggers that worry me Grandmother. I know you heard about that Buquet man and the tenor Piangi both killed during a performance while the whole opera house looked on. Who knows how many others have been dragged into those cavernous cellars never to be seen again? Christine Daaé and her fiancée, the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny might have an opinion on the matter worth pursuing."

"Ah well, there is that. I intend to speak with that Giry woman, Antoinette, when an opportunity arises. She is rather an illusive woman herself. Have you spoken to Meg lately? Such a lovely girl. She spoke of our resident ghost in whispers even though I suspect she knows more than she is willing to tell as does her mother. All they recounted thus far is no more than we could read in the papers or find out from anyone who had been here during that time. Being his savior and coconspirator Antoinette must know more than she is telling us. I intend to use her as my go-between just as those managers did but this time I will be making the demands. He will work for me not haunt this place and disrupt productions. That is of course if we can come to terms."

Tamara shivered as she felt eyes watching her from every angle of the room. Would she ever be able to come in here alone and not imagine someone watching her? If they covered up one hole who was to say he had not made another, one less easy to find?

If it would not afford the man a victory for having driven her out of this room, Tamara would have another place to call home before morning. As it was she would be covering up that mirror defiantly to make a point. His assurance he would not use it to gain information could have been only so many meaningless words. By will alone she stemmed the tide of telltale crimson from flooding her cheeks as she recalled those mornings she had worn nothing to bed other than her own skin. Thinking just how vulnerable she had been during those supposed private moments, Tamara felt indignation rising to think someone had invaded her privacy in such a way. She'd have a thing or two to say to that man on the subject make no mistake.

Lillian could see the storm cloud building on Tamara's face. She did not want the evening to begin with this sort of dissention. She should have remembered her agenda and not brought up the man's penchant for spying on everyone. Nothing came to mind to smooth over troubled waters. Catching sight of the flowers Tamara had placed in a prominent position in the room, Lillian casually walked over to finger the petals of a particularly lovely orchid, a very rare flower in this part of the world, hard to come by and very expensive.

Lillian felt gratified to see Tamara's attention captured by the arrangement of exotic flowers. She did not miss the smile that spread across her granddaughter's face. What woman could resist a man who sent them flowers for no reason? These particular specimens being of a rare nature made them all the more special.

"I must say he does have lovely taste in flowers. I would have been less impressed if he had sent roses. I do believe that had been the flower of choice he sent that Daaé girl. Roses I think are lovely too but so easily obtained if one has the funds to pay the right price. These he must have needed to search for diligently. These are not flowers one usually includes in a bouquet sent to another person. One has to wonder why he would go to so much trouble. He could just as easily have sent you roses. Of course roses may have a sentimental connotation to them as they were his special gift to Mademoiselle Christine."

For no particular reason Tamara wanted to protest her grandmother's statement that he would not send her roses as they held special meaning for him and his beloved. It should make no difference to her but oddly it did. She passed it off as a normal reaction any woman would have for a man sending flowers to them.

As if drawn by an invisible force Tamara found herself standing beside her grandmother admiring every single petal on every flower. Not usually being of a sentimental mind set, at least not openly Tamara quickly dropped her caressing hand to her side. What in the world had taken root inside of her? Since coming here she had begun to have such sinful thoughts as well as some very vivid dreams, ones she did not care to remember as they made her uncomfortably warm.

What madness had taken possession of her? She had never let sentiment rule her yet now her mind conjured pictures of this man from the darkest corners of this very building. Daily she reminded herself he had been a madman who committed horrible acts. Those reminders were quickly followed by excuses for him, none would she ever speak out loud.

He had been and likely still was infatuated with some young diva even knowing he stood no chance with her. His loyalty she deemed commendable to a point. After such a long span of time without so much as a whisper from his lost love should he not have moved on? Why she even dwelled on the matter she would not waste time speculating. Probably it had to do with the fact that this man now sought to use his dastardly inclinations for criminal activities to force them into doing his bidding.

Dredging up what little animosity she could Tamara used it to combat the very feminine part of her that remained intrigued by the man who had thought to send her something so romantic as a bouquet of rare blossoms. She must keep her objectivity. Who knew what he might do if she lost the upper hand? If indeed she ever had it to begin with.

"I should have thought more of the gesture if he had included roses. That would indicate to me he had left his obsession for Mademoiselle Daaé firmly in the past. This offering while pleasing I think speaks more of his continued regard for his former lover."

"Oh Tamara do you think they were lovers?" Tamara should have known Grandmother Lily would pick up on that phrase and want to elaborate. She herself ignored that little twinge that tightened her chest to think of them as having been intimate. She tried to rationalize it by telling herself she abhorred the thought of that man manipulating an innocent mind the way he had for so long. If he had taken advantage of her sexually then all the more shame he should bare.

By all accounts Mademoiselle had been little more than a toddler when she first stepped foot in L'Opéra Populaire. From all she had read and heard about the liaison between the two their appreciation of music had been what connected them at first. It had only been in latter years any romance had been blossoming between the two.

If one looked at it logically, would it not be inevitable for the man to develop deeper feelings for the young girl as she matured into a beautiful young woman. Their passion for music would have bleed over into their feelings for one another.

Never having seen any part of his opera, Don Juan Triumphant, Tamara could only assess an opinion on what she had heard. Some very industrious blossoming author had reproduced the opera word for word, at least that part which had been performed on stage. The feel of the words had been dark seduction. It told of a man who believed himself to hold power over women to the point he could persuade an innocent into his bed. When thwarted he had resorted to underhanded means to win his prize.

Tamara could not help but equate Don Juan's deeds with their own Phantom's pursuit of his lady love. In his own way he had lured a very vulnerable Christine into his web while deceiving her. He had lost her just as Don Juan lost Aminta in the end. She could only hope the man who called himself a phantom had not lost his soul the night he had placed all of his emotions before the world in order to win his heart's desire.

As the time came closer for her to make her way to the roof she vacillated back and forth whether to go or stay safely in her room. Glancing toward the mirror she felt a brief surge of excitement as she imagined him coming through the opened mirror to whisk her away to…well to do whatever men did when they carried women off into the unknown.

Rather than being appalled at her thoughts Tamara found herself half envying her dream self. What woman would not want a man to be so obsessed with her that he would be willing to do anything to have her, anything short of murdering anyone of course? Since early childhood Tamara had fancied having some pirate stealing her away to shower her with jewels.

As she grew into womanhood the fantasy had become slightly more risqué. He still would shower her with jewels but he would also persuade her to abandon her modesty. She blushed as parts of those fantasies entered her mind. Did she subconsciously wish to be dominated by a forceful man? Well if that had been what she wanted the man who passed himself off as the opera house specter surely fit her wildest fancy.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Happy Halloween everyone. **

**Chapter Twelve**

**Night of Romance**

Erik had listened in on Mademoiselle Tamara and her grandmother hoping to learn more about his quarry. At least that had been the reasoning he would admit to himself. He had been gratified by what he had seen on her face even if it had been quickly covered by an unreadable expression. For a moment there she had such a soft look on her face his theory about her romantic nature had been proven. She may hide it for reasons of her own but he had glimpsed the inner woman.

That blasted grandmother of hers had blown ash in his eye nearly blinding him. He had nearly revealed himself to them both as his immediate response had been to throttle the woman. Luckily for him that part of his nature had been easier to control as of late. It would not serve his purpose if he harmed the woman. Tamara did not apprar to be someone who would fraternize with anyone who committed an offense against a relative she cared so much about.

They must have known he observed them as they had gone across the room to speak in a whisper. He wondered why they had simply not removed themselves into another room. There were a few places he had not yet been able to install a moveable panel or convenient peephole. Perhaps subconsciously neither woman had really feared him or wished to leave his company. Sometimes acts that were not committed revealed more than those we carry out. He felt a small bit of satisfaction for having garnered their curiosity. Tamara(Erik now found himself thinking of her in such an intimate way)would have persuaded her grandmother to leave if she thought either of them in any real danger.

It had been harder than he thought to tear himself away from observing them. If he were honest it had been Tamara who had held most of his interest. Lustfully his imagination had run away with itself with his full permission to do so. Oh, the things his mind had brought forth were pleasurable as well as torturous as he doubted any of them would become a reality. The most that could be hoped for would be touching her if he could lull her as he had Christine into a state of acceptance.

He had long ago gotten over his guilt for having stolen those torrid caresses when he sang to Christine of the music of the night. The words he had sung for her had brought such a positive response, he wondered if he might use it again on Tamara. Of course the words might have to be changed as Tamara did not sing. His attraction to her had nothing to do with her singing or teaching her his music. His interest in her had more to do with basic animal attraction than anything so sedate as music, although music had been known as a catalyst for humans to express their more erotic inner feelings through dance. The throbbing rhythm of music made the blood flow hotter, the senses become more receptive and to lull a person into abandoning their inhibitions. Music essentially could be equated with a drug in the right circumstances and when used by a master of the craft.

Just thinking of his seductive music brought him to near surrender to his baser instincts. He felt ready to explode. Anticipation of having Tamara in an intimate embrace nearly had him ending his frustration then and there. It had taken quite a bit of time to reign in his libido but he had managed to do so.

All his life he had only gotten pleasure through self indulgence. This time he would try to bring about a situation where the woman would willingly come to him without asking him to reveal all. Only if he could have her in that way would he be willing to consummate their relationship even if he dared to take things to that end.

Half of him thought it futile folly to even consider such a thing. The other half encouraged him to seek all that he wanted, disregarding any painful after effects. If it came to naught he would be no worse off than he was at the moment. He could spare himself any embarrassment by simply never letting them see or hear from him again. He had lived in solitude enough years to know he could do it again if necessary. This venture would not leave him feeling unmanned as his encounter with Christine had.

This time he would be the one holding all the cards. He would control how and when they met, every aspect would be under the maestro's hand. Erik disregarded the fact that the heart and its amours could not be controlled. The heart opened up when least expected and often times with someone we would never consider opening our inner self to in normal circumstances.

Disregarding his first intentions to only woo the woman then fade away from the situation perhaps an opportunity had now presented itself for a real physical relationship. Having come to the decision that if he were to pursue the woman so he could persuade her to fall under his spell, why not attempt to woo her into giving more than a few caresses stolen while hidden in the shadows?

Much thought had been given to this new plan. He could come up with few reasons to discard the changes he had in mind. He may cause the lady in question a few uncomfortable moments once he faded from the picture but he himself would remain heart hole with perhaps a little pleasure gained from the experience.

Planning for the evening had not been an easy task. With so many people milling about it had been hard bringing everything he needed up to the roof. He could hardly ask Antoinette for help. The things she would have to say to him he could well do without hearing. The less she knew the better.

Having completed setting the scene Erik had returned to his home to make himself presentable. It would not do to be reeking of perspiration when setting the scene for seduction. Everything had been positioned just so. At all times he would be in shadow even while sitting at the table. Only his hands and lower torso would be clearly seen. He had tested every place where he would be during the evening. She would be lit for his pleasure while he remained a mystery.

He must rely on his voice to seduce her. Persuasive words coated in seductive tones had been known to win a man his lady loves acquiescence. Sweet words spoken in the right moment in the right context had given poets prose for centuries. Erik knew well the reputation of many famed poets with women. Women could often be swayed by a man to forgo her chaste outlook with only the promise of forever from her lover.

The night had turned out to be perfect for seduction. The moon gave off a glow that bathed portions of the rooftop while casting shadows where the massive marble gargoyles and angels guarded the opera house. There would be enough lighting to see what needed to be seen, which did not include an Opera Ghost's face.

Romantic candlelight on the table had to be forgone but Erik had made sure to place small lanterns all around the rooftop hung from rope he had strung from one corner to another. The spacing of the lanterns cast light while still casting cloaking shadows in strategic places.

Dinner had been ordered from a first class restaurant and delivered by one of Erik's reliable teenage boys from the streets who worked for him. They would never dream of betraying him as his safety added coins in otherwise empty pockets. Money had never meant much to Erik other than a means to achieve some comforts in an otherwise dismal existence. He would gladly be a pauper if he could have been born with a whole face as others had been.

No expense had been spared this evening. The bottles of wine were the best years as well as the best quality of taste. Having felt Tamara had some sort of resentment for not having been given a rose he had ordered four dozen which he placed in crystal vases in vantage points where whatever direction one turned they would see a vase filled with roses.

The only thing he had been hesitant about had been the roses he tied with a black ribbon. Memories of tying a black ribbon around one rose on different occasions for Christine had caused him a few moments of sorrow but he had not succumbed to despair or his usual bout of tears.

Tamara had her own moments of doubts. What if the man did something vile to her? No one would find her until…in that moment she wondered if she would be found at all if he took it upon himself to rid himself of one aggravation.

Her grandmother continuously talked about how romantic a rooftop meeting would be as she brushed out Tamara's hair. From what her grandmother said one would think she had all but thought an engagement would be immanent. With little time before she had to begin the arduous task of climbing over ten flights of stairs, she wanted to use her time to try to form some sort of strategy.

It had taken over an hour to find the right dress. In the end she had agreed to her grandmother's choice. Hanging in the wardrobe it had looked innocent enough. Tamara had not even been aware the devious woman had placed it inside the wardrobe.

Having had her hair brushed it had been once again Lillian's decision about what would work best for Tamara. Her hair had been left down but two Spanish combs of jade and diamonds had been put in to sweep the hair to the left side of Tamara's head so it would hang down over her shoulder.

Once Antoinette and Meg had helped her put the dress on she wished to drape all of her hair over both shoulders. The bodice left very little unseen while her corset pushed everything to the middle mounding her breasts in an unseemly manner. Of course Lillian had other ideas.

Since she would be climbing so many stairs underskirts had been discarded under protest by Tamara. She might as well have held her breath for all the good it did to voice her concerns of impropriety.

Tamara hoped it would be very dark up on the roof. The diaphanous material of her dress would almost be transparent in direct lighting. According to her grandmother it was the height of fashion. Tamara wondered briefly when her grandmother had looked at catalogs for ladies of ill-repute.

Earlier it had seemed the evening would not even be happening as Antoinette had protested loudly once she had learned why her services along with Meg's had been solicited. Tamara's grandmother Lillian had spoken calmly the whole time Antoinette had been red in the face listing all the reasons not to trust a man she claimed to cared greatly toward.

Meg had been the clear headed one to intervene between the two. Calming her mother she had then led them to chairs so they could each speak laying out their own reasons for or against the meeting. With many under her breath curses later Antoinette had grudgingly gave in.

When Tamara stood before them looking like some goddess of Greek lore Antoinette felt her objections rising again. She watched as Tamara turned from side to side looking in the mirror at her reflected image with uncertainty wrinkling her brow.

"Isn't this dress a little…well a little less than it should be? I feel quite exposed in it to tell you the truth. I would much prefer to have something a little less revealing. I wish to bargain with the man on a business level not solicit his attention to my…my… Well to my form."

Lillian had second thoughts about the dress. With several layers of petticoats underneath it would have been perfectly respectable. With nothing between what the good Lord gave her and the material of the dress Tamara was all but naked.

Biting her lip she fluffed out the skirt trying to give it some fullness instead of outlining Tamara's every curve. The clock chiming the hour of doom or so it seemed to them, they had no time left to dither.

Now all Lillian wanted to do was drag Tamara into a room locked barred and surrounded by guards. If anything happened to her granddaughter due to her own selfish reasons Lillian felt she might never forgive herself. Of course she had hoped for some romantic interludes for Tamara but could she have not vetted some noblemen instead of throwing her only grandchild to some man purported to be insane?

Having a pleasant voice or composing a few romantic notes to impress a young woman under his spell did not make for a man of honor, one fit to woo Tamara. Now that she had time to think she concluded this plan had far too many flaws and not enough substance.

"Tamara, I am having second thoughts dear. Perhaps you should have Madame deliver your regrets for the evening. Simply say you are ill, a headache or something, anything."

Antoinette looked in horror at the woman volunteering her to deliver a note which no doubt would anger Erik and could well lead to some harm for the one delivering the missive, namely herself.

Tamara nearly accepted her grandmother's suggestion but something held her tongue silent. The fast beating of her heart she knew to be caused by fear but felt some underlying emotion. Excitement, anticipation, curiosity, all of those played some part in her decision to keep the appointment. She did not want to dig too deeply to find what other emotions were driving her on. Perhaps at the moment she would not be willing to accept what she unearthed.

Leaving her room Tamara had a small train of humanity following her through the opera house to the back where the long flight of stairs led to the roof. Lillian hugged Tamara tightly hoping it would not be the last time.

Seeing the worry in all of them Tamara took her grandmother's hands to say encouragingly, "Nothing will happen. I don't know why I feel so certain but I do. Antoinette has assured us he has done no real violence to women. Nothing has been done other than childish pranks causing inconvenience. I do believe we are dealing with a rational man. One who can be bargained with. Surely if he loves this place as much as he claims he would want it to succeed would he not?"

Feeling the trembling in the hands she held Tamara knew just how frightened her grandmother really was at the moment. She had little doubt her grandmother would be out the opera house front door calling for the gendarmes as soon as Tamara began her ascent.

"Grandmother you must promise me you will not do anything foolish. We must keep this as quiet as we can. If word of this gets out we could have a panic. We may even come under scrutiny for harboring a criminal. Aiding and a-bedding a wanted man is a hanging offense. Please Grandmother give me your word." Tamara would not admit she asked more for her own private reasons than she feared facing any legal accusations of wrongdoing. Some hitherto unknown feminine reaction to this man had her intrigued, albeit reluctantly. Something about him pulled at her inner core in a way no other man had. She had not seen him, had barely heard his voice, yet she found herself willing to risk everything just for this one night of intrigue.

Perhaps her sedate life thus far had begun to wear at her nerves. Maybe she sought some excitement and this man offered it to her. Whatever the truth turned out to be Tamara would have this night of mystery and potential romance. Knowing of his former liaison with Mademoiselle Daaé it would appear pointless to assume he sought her out as a woman of interest to him. She could not sing a note nor play an instrument of any kind. He had asked for her company so they may discuss the future of their association. As long as she kept that in mind she felt safe to let her womanly imagination have a little leeway. Step by step she came closer to meeting a man she had heard so many varying stories about. She could not quell the excited beat of her heart the higher they climbed. When they reached the last landing they were all out of breath and needed a few moments to regain breath enough to speak. Before anyone else could speak Tamara implored them to leave her at this point. If he saw all of them it may cause some unpleasant reaction from the man she wished to speak with on companionable terms.

Having garnered their promise to return below Tamara continued on. Once she stood before the door she hesitated with her hand lightly gripping the knob. Gathering her courage she opened the door thereby removing temptation to turn tail and run. As much as she protested he would not harm her she could not be certain he would not.

Stepping out onto the roof she could hardly take in the splendid display before her. She caught his scent in the breeze just before she felt him against her back. His arms went around her, one at her waist and the other at her throat. She prayed this scene on the roof would not be her last.

His breath tickled against her ear when he spoke in a persuasively seductive tone, "Mademoiselle Tamara, I am pleased you are able to join me. It further pleases me you sent your bodyguards away. Tonight we shall become better acquainted."

His hand moved from her neck to her chin then slid along her jaw. Cupping her face he turned her head slightly to the side. She could not be sure as she felt too panicked to tell, but she thought she felt his lips gently slid along her ear then down her neck.

"Yes Tamara. I shall get to know you very well." To Tamara's confused mind it sounded both a threat and a promise. She could not stay the leap to her pulse as his hand took hers to bring it to the left side of his face. Turning his head he placed a soft kiss in her palm.

Before she could take in all his improper offenses he stood back from her. When next she heard him he was across the roof standing in the shadows inviting her to come sit at his table. Walking slowly forward she wondered if he had some unknown drug he had somehow slipped in something she ate or drank for she felt sure no man had ever made her feel such sensations when she should be feeling insulted and appalled.

Under what devil's spell had she succumbed?


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Haven't really had a lot of reviews yet but I thought I'd go ahead and post this chapter as it ends Erik and Tamara's first night. Now the fun can really begin. **

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Night of Seduction**

Erik had not planned to greet her in such a personal way but had found himself behind her before he could even formulate the thought to do so. It had taken considerable willpower not to drag her to a place where he could bring about an end he would enjoy greatly but she may not. He must stay with his plan to woo her if he hoped to have any chance of success. Forcing her into acquiescence had not and would not be part of his plan. Whether her elevated pulse rate had been due to fear or his closeness and caresses he had no knowledge to glean an answer. Vehemently he cursed his inexperience in such matters. Youths of fifteen had more knowledge than he did.

Christine had been the first and only woman he had caressed in such a way. She had responded to him positively until the little Pandora had let her curiosity get the better of her by removing his mask. If not for that misjudgment on Christine's part he had always thought they might have consummated their relationship that morning. She had been receptive the night before when he sang to her. If he had not frightened her by letting her see the lifelike replica of her he had made things may have taken a different direction than they had.

He would not dwell on past failures. That was all behind him. Now he had the chance to woo a woman and by God he would do all he could to win her favor. Love he would not expect. The best he could hope for would be luring her into his bed if he could manage to keep her from concentrating on his mask. If it would be his lot to only have one perfect night with a woman he would make it a most memorable one for the both of them.

He lacked practical skills in such matters but throughout his life he had always found answers to most of life's problems in contemplation or reading about what troubled him in books. He had left a mound of books on every aspect of human emotions from poetry to sterile books for teaching the anatomy to doctors sitting on his desk. At the bottom of the pile he had hidden the book which had nearly driven him to seek out a woman for release. Who knew that a nation that practiced such strict religious beliefs would be so forthright about human sexuality to the point of someone writing a book on the subject complete with visual demonstrations and graphic instructions?

Erik had always been aware that the ears were sensual receptors. The eyes could see what pleased them the hands could touch in ways that brought intense pleasure or pain, the nose could pick up on some exotic aroma which stimulated sexual responses in the body. All the body worked together to bring about a man and woman's arousal. Before Erik had relied on his voice to entice Christine but now he knew he must develop other means as well if he wanted to be successful in this endeavor.

When he beckoned her forward to take a seat she willingly came to him. As a gentleman should he held her chair making sure to keep to the shadows. As she had come across to him the sight of her with the light casting her body in silhouette through her gown revealed much for him to feast upon and more for him to imagine. He nearly lost his composure but he retained control. As she sat he could not keep his eyes from taking their fill of her breasts displayed so prominently for his pleasure. If she had planned to drive him to desperation she had done her work well. As she looked shyly over her shoulder he could see no evidence of the siren her attire hinted at.

The stain of a blush on her cheeks did surprise him. He would have thought a woman of her age and situation in life she had long since passed girlish shyness. He had seen many women acting coyly toward men in many different situations over the years. In his opinion the act had been made on behalf of the man who wished to pretend he would take the innocence from someone where innocence had been abandoned long ago.

"Are you comfortable Mademoiselle? Shall I find a wrap for you?" If she said yes he did not know where the hell he would find something. The only thing he had to hand was his cloak lying across the statue of Apollo. That would swallow her whole as well as cover her tempting form.

"Oh no. I am fine. Thank you." Tamara questioned whether the thready voice she heard had come from her. When had she ever sounded so unsure? It had been a long time since she had felt shy around anyone particularly a man. She had made sure to teach herself certain tricks when dealing with men who thought women were beneath them.

She should be angry with him. She should be demanding he either leave her grandmother's property or agree to be cooperative. A man would not be in this vulnerable state. Of course if she were a man she would not be having the reaction to him in such a sensuous manner. Suddenly she found herself wanting to be all womanly. Being able to compete in a man's world did not let one know a man in a social setting if one had a foot in both worlds as Tamara did. Men would speak to her during social gatherings but made certain to steer clear of her once the music began.

She tried to see him more clearly in the darkness but could only make out his dark form. The white mask she could see as it contrasted with all the darkness around him. It did not show up like a beacon but with the reflected light around them she saw the outline of it on his face. She wanted to see him so badly but could think of no way to make a request for more lighting plausible as anything other than a ploy to get a good look at him.

Never having sat at a table with a man alone she felt at a loss what to say or do. In any other situation she would have known exactly what to say to turn the conversation where she wished it to go. With his presence in close proximity she felt frightened but also a return of her curiosity as to whether he looked as handsome as some reported him to be. Even with descriptions of his deformed face the rest of what everyone saw spoke of a formidable persona. Even Meg and Antoinette had admitted to being under his spell for a short time until Christine Daaé had torn his mask from his face.

If only his speaking voice could bring such tremors from deep within her if she heard him sing likely she would end up a puddle at his feet. This would not do at all. If he knew of her weakness he would take advantage of her. With the whole of the opera house depending on her she needed to keep a steady head.

Erik had planned for this evening carefully. Conversation would not be heading into the area of discussion of the opera house at least not as in how he and Tamara were going to come to some bargain or other for his cooperation. This evening would be dedicated to romance. In an effort to make this evening something Tamara had never experienced before Erik had taken pains to perfect an invention he had been toying with that came about because of an invention by someone else.

This had been something he had been working on in his spare time just before he had lost his head over Christine. Working diligently he had finished the apparatus and had tested it to make sure it would serve his purpose. It had taken much trial and error testing with many failures littering his floor but at last he had successfully made music he could have play with no musician being present. Of course he had wanted it to be his own music she would be hearing. After much soul searching and debate with himself he had made a cylinder which played his composition Music of the Night. He did feel a twinge of guilt that he had not created something especially for her but time being short he chose the composition he thought would sound romantic while he danced with her, assuming he did not frighten her to the point she would not let him touch her again.

Erik did not feel nervous as he thought he might. Where all this newfound confidence came from he didn't know or care, he only hoped it continued. If anyone had told him he would be seated across from a woman about to share a meal he would have taken them for an escaped lunatic or practical joker.

"So Monsieur…Monsieur…" Tamara paused hoping for him to inform her of either his first or last name. She would not call him Opera Ghost or Phantom with him sitting across from her bearing no resemblance to either ghost or phantom. If she let her imagination go she could imagine him as Don Juan or someone equally alluring to women. Mystery and danger did appeal to most women when assigned to some man.

"Erik. You may call me Erik."

Softly he heard her say his name for the first time. Coming from her lips it sounded almost as if his name felt pleasant on her tongue. Never would he had imagined just his name could sound like a lover's word of passion.

"And you," she hesitated to say his name out loud in fear that it meant more than a proper address for him. Softly speaking while looking at him shyly from beneath her lowered lids she said, "You may call me Tamara if you would like." She felt a little mean spirited for having denied him calling her Tamara before.

Erik could not stem the flow of triumphant blood rushing through him as she gave permission for him to address her so personally. A slap across his face would be no less than he expected after having practically groped her when he first touched her.

In his mind he had justified that close contact as necessary to assure himself she had no weapons. At best it was a weak ploy he used to allow himself to have her pressed close to him. Only actual sexual gratification he felt could compare to the feel and smell of her. She intoxicated his senses. Only Christine had ever made him feel this sort of bliss by a mere touch.

"Tamara, such a beautiful name, for an exquisite woman. I apologize if I seem too forward but as I am sure you understand I have not been given the opportunity to mingle among the masses in social situations. My manners may lack savoir-faire."

His humility sounded sincere. Given how he had lived perhaps she could overlook certain indiscretions. If she were honest with herself she had not minded his close proximity as much as she should have. The manly smell of him had made her slightly dizzy, not in a disagreeable fashion either.

"No apology is necessary. I…I was not offended." Why she would boldly admit to welcoming his touch caused her a moment of discomfort. Knowing how vulnerable she was at the moment she could not let her senses be lulled by his charm or sympathy for his plight. She must shore up her defenses before he had her eating out of his hand like a tame lapdog.

When he stood suddenly she jumped in surprise. Hoping he would not take notice just how unsure she felt, Tamara busied herself with rearranging her cutlery. She fidgeted with her wine glass. Vaguely she wondered how he would manage to bring food up here and keep it warmed until served.

Jumping once more as she felt his hand on her shoulder, it was only then she realized some exquisite tune had begun to play. She glanced around looking for a musician playing a violin but could see no one. When she felt him squeeze her shoulder she looked upward. A very long way up. He had not been so tall earlier, at least she had not thought so. Of course then he had been leaning down to…had he really nuzzled her neck even if only with a slight touching of his lips to her skin? Why had she not taken him to task for such a liberty?

"Tamara, may I have the honor of this dance?" Erik went to stand at her side waiting for her acceptance or denial. Holding his breath he thought for a moment he might asphyxiate himself before he received her answer.

Timidly she placed her hand in his not knowing why she let this charade continue. They should be discussing business and not cavorting around the rooftop as if they were…were, well were lovers. All thoughts left her once he drew her against his hard upper body. This was not appropriate. Women and men did not dance this closely together, did they? She felt lightheaded.

His scent and power enshrouded her fogging her mind in a sensual haze. Every thing became centered on the sensations flooding her. Wanting to look up but resisting the urge, Tamara allowed him to keep her firmly pressed against his chest. Even couples who had known one another did not dance in such a familiar way, again the thought crossed her mind hazily.

All of this she knew, but still she let him lead her where he would. When she felt his chest beginning to vibrate as he first hummed then began to sing words his voice invaded her as if it had manifested itself into something physical.

Erik had not meant to sing. The music had lured him as it always would. On the spot he had to rewrite the words he had sung for Christine. He felt guilt once more for using something he had written expressly for Christine's benefit. To use it to lure another woman under his spell seemed disloyal. Staunchly he reminded himself Christine now slept in the bed of her husband. She had not kept herself chaste all this time waiting for him to return as he himself had waited for her.

When the music stopped Erik led Tamara over to the ledge so they could look out over Paris. At night every light in every window made something mundane in the daytime, spectacular by night. He could not resist coming up behind her once more placing his hands on her shoulders. If she struggled he could stay her if he wished but she showed no sign of objecting, indeed he felt certain she had leaned back into him.

"Oh Erik it is spectacular. I have never in my life seen anything so beautiful that did not come from the sky. How lucky you are to have this view every night." Tamara only realized the folly of her words when she felt him stiffen. Having to spend his life in the opera house could not have been easy nor something he would normally have wished to do. A magnificent view did not make a fair trade for being able to walk about freely during the day.

"I am sorry. What a thoughtless thing for me to say. Please. Please forgive me. I meant no offense." Tamara waited with baited breath for his reply. She did not know it meant so much for him to accept her apology until she heard him speak and felt her muscles let go the tight grip she had been holding herself under his hands.

"It is not easy for those who have such wondrous things before them every night if they wish it to understand what I would not give to change places with them or to even join them for a walk in the pard. For me it has always been a stolen moment here and there. I took nothing for granted and only lost sight of how much this place meant to me when…well when something…someone began to mean more to me."

"Once again I am sorry for having raised an issue which may have caused you some discomfort. That had not been my intention." He stepped further away from her without speaking. Gesturing with his hand he indicated she should be reseated.

The moment of closeness seemed to have vanished as if it never had been. They returned to the table where Erik served them both aromatic dishes from several chaffing dishes he had set up on a table in a very dark corner. As she looked around she found that despite the glow of a half moon most of the area had darkened corners or at least dark shadows cast from the statues and gargoyles decorating the ledge around the perimeter of the roof.

She shivered as it came to mind this would be the perfect place to murder someone or set the scene for a seduction. If she should scream no one would hear her. Letting her imagination get the better of her she also speculated the sounds of lovers shouting out in an intimate moment would not be heard by anyone either.

Being of an innocent nature yet a woman of headstrong ideas of where women should stand in society had her wicked mind traveling the pathway to forbidden thoughts. Nervously she shifted in her seat as if afraid he might read her mind and then know just what wickedness had overtaken her.

As the evening progressed Erik spoke of several of his older compositions he would like to see performed. Mention had been made of several operas in the creative process at the present time. Every compliment he gave for the way things were headed took away Tamara's need to discuss the reason for this meeting.

She found herself not caring what they discussed as long as he kept speaking. When he would gesture with his hands to make a point she found herself fascinated by his movements. He had the hands of a musician, the voice of a seductive lover and thrown in for good measure God had given him so much musical talent everyone had declared his opera one of the finest presentations they had seen in ages.

What this man could have done under the right sort of guidance could have been astronomical in the world of the arts, never mind everything else he had invented. He told her about a few things when she asked him about how he had been able to get the music to play without an instrument or musician being present.

He only called an end to the evening when she yawned quite vulgarly. She tried to quickly cover her gaping mouth but he had seen and suggested they end the evening. She hadn't accomplished anything she had set out to do. They had discussed his creativity but not in connection with coming to work for the opera house.

When she would have gone back the way she came he stayed her hand from opening the door. Without a word he offered her his hand and like a trusting child she placed her much smaller hand in his. All she could see clearly of him was their joined hands. Somehow he had doused many of the lanterns and candles without her being aware. Letting him led her Tamara found herself blindly following where he led. She heard a swishing sound then he pulled her into the bottom of the statue. When they did not hit solid granite curiosity about this man urged her to find out more about him.

The air seemed much cooler and had the feel of dampness about it. Everything had been completely enveloped in darkness as soon as the panel closed behind them. Feeling like a frightened schoolgirl Tamara desperately clasped her free hand around his arm as she stepped closer to the warm security of his strong frame. Never had Tamara ever admitted it to anyone but total darkness had always been a weakness. If a candle had not been left burning she would raise the dead with her screams in her younger days. As she got older she would merely pull the covers completely over her head. What protection that had been had not mattered. She felt safer with every part of her hidden from whatever lurked in the dark.

Erik had been surprised to feel her all but climbing inside of him. Feeling the slight tremors coming from her he concluded darkness did not lend her comfort as it did for him.

"I am sorry Tamara to have overlooked lighting the torches. I rarely do as I know every crack in the floors and walls. I promise I will let nothing happen to you."

Strangely she believed him. Gradually she felt herself relaxing enough to begin to take notice of things about him she had not taken note of earlier. His arm felt very muscular beneath her hand. Her fingers could not reach around his upper arm. The side of him pressing against her own much softer flesh felt very solid. If appearance and the heady fragrance coming from his person were any indication he adhered to a practice of being well groomed. One might not expect that from someone who lived below any normal level of society.

Knowing she should have taken charge of the conversation during the evening she could not bring herself to regret not doing so now. With every step they took her heartbeat rose in tempo. Questions flitted across her mind as well as different scenarios as to how this little trek might end. She had no idea whether he would be taking her to her room or deeper into the tunnels beneath the opera house. Further speculating had her wondering what he might do to her if he did take her below to his home. What would be his intentions?

Fear should be her top most emotion but she could not honestly say she felt any fright. When his arm slid around her back dislodging her hands from their firm grip she did not feel any sort of objection coming to mind. The sensation of his strong arm wrapped around her felt oddly right in this darkness.

Having walked for some few minutes in silence they arrived at a place that looked slightly lighter. She could see a lighted square in the stone wall. Coming to a stop she felt him moving beside her. He must have touched some mechanism because shortly thereafter the place that had been dimly lit became transparent giving a clear view of her room.

Momentarily stunned to be looking into her room from the opposite side of the wall she could only look on taking in the ramifications of this new revelation. When he looked in on her he had been able to see her quite clearly. Once more the opportunity to upbraid him for his behavior passed without comment.

Dear Lord! The number of times she had gone to bed with nothing between his eyes and her flesh but a few bits of cloth should have brought anger to the fore. Had her covers slipped during the night on any occasion he might have been watching her? Instead of anger as had been her reaction when first she knew of his observation position, now she felt another sort of emotion, something less acrimonious and more curious to know exactly what his reaction had been when he saw her. Something compelled her to question him.

Just when she thought she had marshaled her thoughts into order and would have began her interrogation he shocked her once again when he drew her closer to him. They looked into one another's eyes both searching for something. She could feel herself being drawn deeper into his eyes. She felt a weightlessness invading her.

Dropping her eyes to his lips shamefully she felt an urge to reach upward to meet his lips with her own. When his head began to descend her breath caught. Slowly his head came down to her. Helpless to do anything but wait Tamara felt a rush of expectancy fill her as his lips finally hovered only a mere breath from her own. Closing her eyes she anticipated the feel of his lips upon her own.

Moments passed by before she felt the warm pressure of his lips not upon her own but on her forehead. They stayed pressed to her flesh longer than a mere friendly salutation but did not have the same affect as his lips would have if they had touched her own. Confusion clouded her mind as she felt disappointment. Should she not be glad he had not taken such liberties with her on such short acquaintance? Why then did she not feel relief? Before she could gather herself enough to address him a swishing sound filled the silence then he gently guided her through the opening she had not been aware had been revealed.

"Good-night Tamara. Sleep well." With that the mirror slid back into place. Snapping out of her trance she stepped forward trying to find a way to reopen the mirror. Finding nothing she stared into the glass only seeing her face looking dreamy-eyed as a young girl after her first kiss.

Well she had certainly not accomplished a single thing on her agenda. Dreading what her grandmother would make of this Tamara began to ready herself for bed. Remembering how clearly he could see into her room she went behind the dressing screen where she donned a gown for sleeping.

Before she reached to turn the light off she looked directly at the mirror and said softly, "Good-night Erik. Sleep well."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Dear readers once again dark fate has touched my family. My sister has been diagnost with ovarian cancer. They were set to operate but found her blood level too low. She had lost six pints of blood. The are now set to do a colonoscopy tomorrow as they fear the cancer has spread. I will be out of town and bogged down with worry. I am posting this to let you know that if I don't post on Sunday it isn't because I abandoned my story. I have it written and I am editing it as I post. It will be finished so please pray for me and my family as we muddle through this. **

**Chapter Fourteen **

**Interludes**

Erik had stayed to watch Tamara until she had extinguished the last of the lighting. When she had whispered a good-night to him he had almost lost his judgment once again. Restraint had never been easy for him when it concerned things he wanted badly and he wanted Tamara with every fiber of his body. Manly urges were not easily kept under control especially for someone who knew what joys other men experienced but had been denied them all of his life. Knowing Tamara would only protest moderately to save her modesty made his restraint all the harder.

Having learned a little from his mistake with Christine, Erik would now wait patiently for that final surrender. If tonight could be used as an indication he would not have long to wait. A few more nights romancing her and she would fall into his trap. With some small part of his brain not governed by beastly urges it occurred to him that perhaps it was he who would fall into a trap, one set by a feminine hand but a trap all the same.

Erik had an unrealistic view of things. Certainly she had been willing to allow him liberties last night even beyond any he had thought possible. What he could not know, having little or no experience with women, was that women were creatures of change. What pleased them once may not please them again. If a woman allowed certain exchanges of an intimate nature upon further reflection she might have a different outlook on what had occurred in a weak moment. Being of a shy nature and never experiencing certain emotions would quite possibly cause her embarrassment such that she may have a need to rationalize what had taken place.

Tamara never having been on any one on one meetings with a man other than business concerns had no idea how to handle all those emotions Erik had made her feel. At the time he had woven a seductive spell around her through which everything had looked romantic. Upon waking her memories began to take a different spin. What had been of her free will last night suddenly she questioned what had really happened. Had he drugged her? Hypnotized her? Never could she imagine being so free with a man that she would allow him to kiss her upon one meeting. She would not class what had taken place as anything other than a meeting of two potential business partners on her part at least. At any future meetings she must make it clear there would be no repeat of what had taken place the night of their rooftop encounter.

He must have used some magical form of persuasion she felt certain. She felt tempted to cover the mirror with a cloth but would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she felt any concern about his ability to see and hear her while she occupied her own room. A gentleman would honor her privacy and she would be telling him so in short order. He had given his word as a gentleman but could that be taken as an honorable declaration or merely paying lip service to something he knew she expected?

Knowing her grandmother would not wait much longer to begin her inquest about last evening Tamara prepared for the day. Careful not to do anything she would not want others to witness she dressed behind her dressing screen then left her room. She had barely stepped out the door when she had been set upon by three babbling women vying for position to ask her questions concerning what had taken place last evening.

"Please ladies. At least allow me to seat myself at the breakfast table before you begin to badger me for answers." Tamara felt a need for extra time to gather her wits. It went without saying she would not be mentioning those intimate moments she felt had been the result of some form of hypnosis or drugs.

"Tamara dear I have no intention of badgering you. I resent your suggestion that I would. One would think from your attitude something of a personal nature had taken place instead of only talk of business." Lillian knew her granddaughter well and if nothing untoward had taken place Tamara would be all set to give a verbatim account of what had taken place. To further convince Lillian Tamara had something to hide Tamara turned quickly away just as a crimson tide had been working its way up into her face. Now she marched down the hallway as if late for an important meeting and only had seconds to spare.

The other three women lifted their skirts so they could hurry their steps to catch up with Tamara. Antoinette had an idea what had taken place. Erik had hinted at just such a plan. After much arguing back and forth she had felt Erik had seen reason and abandoned this lunacy of luring a woman into his web. It was not that Erik did not have every right to pursue a woman he wished to romance, or the very stuff women found attractive in a man. What worried her about the whole thing had been Erik's penchant for grasping on to things too tightly.

Having been denied so much over his lifetime Erik would do anything to gain something he wanted. That mentality had led him to commit horrible crimes in the past. Christine had played a large role in his descent into insanity. He had come to love her over time and had wanted her for always discounting how she might feel about tying herself to a murderer and extortionist.

Now Erik appeared to have set his sights on Tamara. She worried what would happen this time if the woman drawing his eye did not return his affections. Erik claimed he would not be offering his heart but Antoinette knew better than anyone that for Erik to have a woman in the way he wanted would be tantamount to joining them for eternity. He would not be able to let her go if they spent one night in one another's arms assuming Tamara would even be willing to do so.

On the long walk to the dining room Tamara went over several ways to begin the discussion. At all costs she must head off her grandmother's digging for information about her Phantom. Debating whether or not to reveal his name Tamara sank onto her chair at the table with trepidation. For quite some few minutes she fiddled with her napkin placing it precisely on her lap, repositioned the fork, knife and spoon. The suacer and cup did not sit right where they were so a new spot had to be found. The perfectly smooth tablecloth needed several swipes before it met with her satisfaction. How could she tell them that she had been so taken with the gentleman that not one business idea had passed between them concerning him becoming a legitimate employee? Nothing had been discussed other than his talents, possible future productions and various inventions he had dangled in front of her when he gleaned she had an inquisitive mind.

A servant placed a pot of tea on the table as well as a plate of pastries and fruit. When no one reached forward to pour tea Meg took on the task. Her mother and Madame Palmenter were studiously watching Tamara hardly seeming to notice tea had been brought to them. Meg wanted to shake Tamara just as she used to want to shake Christine to gain insight into the mysterious man from the shadows.

"Tamara I demand to know what happened as your grandmother and employer, the one with controling interest in all of this." Lillian rapped her knuckles on the table to emphasize each word. Frustration had set in and her patience had come to an end.

"I might remind you Grandmother Lily that I have invested a considerable amount of money to keep things running until such time as the theatre begins to turn a profit. I am not under your employ if you remember correctly you refused to hire me. Only when I began to ask certain questions did you offer to let me handle the business side of things."

"Are you sure we had that discussion Tamara? I am sure I remember hiring you. Oh dear. You must forgive me Tamara. I am getting on and my memory isn't what it once was. If you say you don't want to work for me then I must carry on as best as I can. Don't worry dear. I shall make the best of things. I will muddle through somehow." Lillian made a great show of wiping the corners of her eyes and sniffling quite loudly. People at the closet tables were obviously listening and condemning Tamara with their accusing looks.

"Grandmother you may snow everyone else but you forget I am wise to your ploys." Tamara could barely keep the smile from her lips. Often she had thought her grandmother had missed her calling. She would have made an excellent actress. Filling her plate with a selection of pastries Tamara began to eat. When Lillian saw she would gain no ground from Tamara she gave one last sniff then began to fill her plate.

"You my dear Tamara have become a hardened woman. Time was when all I need do to gain your favor had been bringing out the handkerchief. Now not even my tears sway you." Lillian conceded she may have used the old woman in tears a few times too many.

"Not hardened Grandmother, just wiser and we both know your mind works like a steel trap. You forget nothing. Will you tell what scheme you are cooking up or shall I have to wait until some disaster befalls me?"

"Tamara Louisa Stern! I would never do anything that would put you in any real danger at least not knowingly. And what is this scheme business? You know very well I never interfere in anyone else's business." Lillian sniffed this time indignantly.

"For shame Grandmother. How about the time when Mrs. Lowell and her daughter were…"

"You dare bring that up? Tamara you know very well that woman and her daughter were being fed a load of…" Lillian looked around then leaned in to finish, "They were being fed a load of horse droppings. That young man had his eye on Henrietta's inheritance and was not above romancing both mother and daughter to achieve his goals. You know very well Mrs. Lowell and I were dear friends. Someone had to put a stop to things before they went any further." Lillian felt justified in helping her friend Millicent rid herself of a devious womanizer. The young man in question had been courting both mother and daughter on the sly hoping to snare one of the wealthy women. Wisely he had sworn them to secrecy claiming his family would not approve any liaison with anyone other than the woman they had chosen for him.

"Be that as it may…" Tamara stopped as it occurred to her she and her grandmother were feeding the gossip mill with food for fodder for many days to come. Lowering her voice and leaning in she spoke quietly once more.

"Alright you win Grandmother, for now. Don't think I have forgotten your plotting. We will revisit that discussion in private later. There really isn't much to tell about last evening. He kept to the shadows so I never got a clear view of him. We did speak of several things concerning the theatre but nothing specific about his becoming our employee. I knew he was a musician but I think he really is some sort of genius as well. He told me about several inventions he has been working on. Why, last night he had one that played music without the aid of a live musician. It really was incredible."

For the next fifteen or so minutes Tamara continued to speak the man's praises. For a man she claimed to not have seen very well or discussed much of business matters, Tamara had learned more about his personal aptitudes than anything else. Lillian lowered her head to the pastry on her plate. Feigning interest in the sweet she picked pieces of it then brought them to her mouth. Valiantly she struggled to refrain from an outright pleased hallelujah escaping her mouth. Her granddaughter may not know it or be willing to admit it but she had been smitten with the man. An instant attraction at first sight had been beyond her wildest dreams. At best she had thought they might strike up a pleasant conversation.

This had to mean something. Tamara never let anything come between her and business. For so long Lillian had worried her granddaughter had traded romance for profit. Upon further observance it had come to Lillian that Tamara had entered English society at a distinct disadvantage. Her free and easy upbringing while enlightening and healthy for mind and heart, it had been in no way the proper way to teach a young woman how to survive social gatherings.

Lillian had felt her daughter had been remiss as a mother by not giving Tamara a few basic coping skills. Proper dress and knowledge of etiquette other than what cutlery to use would have been useful. Tamara's parents had given her more than any normal parent could have yet their open-minded attitude had left Tamara to either sink or swim. Sometimes Lillian thought Tamara had already gone under twice and hovered over that third time going under never to resurface.

She had already been a young woman when she came to live with Lillian at least close enough. Having brought her own daughter up with strict rules of etiquette, Lillian had assumed her daughter had done the same for Tamara. The first occasion they had gone out in society had pointed out plainly how different Tamara was from the other had been far too outspoken on subjects men considered taboo for women. Rather than congregate with the gossiping ladies Tamara had entered into a heated discussion about politics. While Lillian had been proud of her granddaughter's forthright opinions no one else had been impressed.

Needless to say suitors had not come knocking down the door. By the time Tamara had learned social skills she had already been firmly entrenched in the idea of running her own life and finances. Lillian could find no fault with wanting to be the master of one's own destiny but it needed to be done with finesse. She herself resorted to tears and pity to win many of her own arguments. Sadly that technique no longer worked on Tamara.

"Tamara dear what if anything did you say concerning our proposition?" What she really wished to know were all those details Tamara had been making such pains to keep from revealing. The other two women may not know Tamara skirted around topics she wished to avoid but Lillian's bloodhound nose had been twitching ever since Tamara had sat down at the table and began to fidget.

"Proposition?" Tamara repeated the word as if were spoken in an incomprehensive foreign language.

"Yes dear, what did he say about joining us as a valued employee instead of a nuisance?" No one could miss the agitation or nervous fidgeting Tamara could not control. Lillian knew for sure now something had happened Tamara did not wish to speak about openly.

"Well…he…we…Music!" Tamara pounced on that topic eagerly causing the other three to startle at the suddenness and overly loud exclamation. "We spoke of music. He has offered up several compositions and even a few operas he has been working on." Triumphantly Tamara stated the several ideas she remembered Erik speaking about.

"Well my dear informing you of his talents is commendable but not conducive to gaining his loyalty or assure us he will desist from making trouble. What if anything, did he say when you offered him employment?"

"Oh…well…I…we…he and I did not exactly come to any conclusive end to that discussion. I believe it is still open for discussion." Tamara began to question her sanity. She had let a murderer and extortionist lull her into compliance without so much as a peep of protest. Furthermore they had not discussed anything that had been of the utmost importance before she had actually been in his presence. The moment she heard his voice had been when she began to lose control. Once he had been within touching distance he had full command over her emotions. It would not do at all to surrender so completely to someone with his history of deceit, but more importantly she would not be controlled by emotions she felt unwilling to define.

Erik listened to their discussion of him with amusement. Tamara clearly felt at a disadvantage. He could not help but take notice of the fact she had not informed them of how intimate they had been while speaking not of business but more of what normal people talk about during an intimate evening. It would seem they still had much to discuss. Erik looked forward to their next meeting. He must make it soon. He did not want Tamara shoring up her defenses against him. Yes, their next encounter must be soon.

The feeling of pride that had taken hold of him as he listened to Tamara extol about his talents had been something he had rarely felt in his life when connected to someone else. No one had ever seen anything worthy in him in his entire life other than perhaps Christine for a while but then he had ruined everything expecting her to accept what he had to offer. With Tamara he would offer nothing other than the physical pleasure they might share if she accepted him in such a way. Having decided not to pursue any emotional declarations of love or any tenderly exchanged vows of eternity had freed him to be who he wanted, a man like any other.

Love would never be something Erik sought again. Knowing his face would always be an issue he would not expect complete acceptance. He would settle for what he could have, if not with Tamara, then perhaps with someone else. He knew first hand about the noblewomen left wanting by their husbands, husbands who pursued younger, more talented women in the bedroom, ones willing to let all boundaries slide.

Erik stepped back guiltily when he caught Antoinette staring at the very spot where he peeped through his spy hole. She could not see him he knew. Knowing his penchant for listening and spying he would not put it past her to have examined many likely places where he would have an advantageous place to watch and listen. He may have need to take her to task if she became too nosy and interfered in his plans.

He found himself losing interest rather quickly in anyone or anything other than Tamara. Anticipating success he reasoned drew his mind from every concern other than conquest of his prey. Never would he consider himself ready to let go of his emotional attachment to Christine so soon. His head told him he still loved her but perhaps the heart needed to move on to survive.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Good news is they think they got all the cancer from my sister. Won't know for sure until the pathology comes back. Bad news is they broke her leg while in the hospital. She already had a rod in it and they broke that and her femure (sp). Her hernia surgery went well too. Now just as soon as her system gets back in working order they will let her eat and drink. It has been 3 days so far without food or water. As soon as she has recovered they will be transporting her to another hospital to do surgery on her leg. Many months of rehab are in front of her. I had hoped to be able to return in a week or so for the next surgery but without any money coming in I won't be able to afford to be there. Sometimes life sucks. I am hoping that at least when all of this is over she'll be able to walk. Thanks to all who have sent kind words. Bless you all. **

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Renegotiation **

Two days had passed since Tamara and Erik had met. Lillian had hounded Tamara's every step suspecting Erik may try to speak with her or at least leave a note. Nothing had been forthcoming and everyone began to become a little paranoid and jumpy. Tamara especially seemed out of sorts and snappish of late.

Tamara had no idea why she felt disappointed Erik had made no contact with her. During the last two days she had spent many boring hours in her room casting glances at the mirror. Giving in to temptation she had even tried to find the mechanism that would open the darn thing. Angrily she had placed a blanket over the mirror blocking Erik's way to at least see into her room. He had admitted to having other means of spying but had also given his word he would not make use of those either. She vascilated between believing in him and doubting his veracity. One moment she held her breath expectantly wondering if this would be the moment he came through the glass then quickly cast disparaging glances toward it along with several remarks questioning Erik's honor.

Having so much idle time to contemplate this new obsession her mind had fixated on Tamara could not help the progression of pondering toward Christine and Raoul de Chagny. A Vicomte with a heart. What an oddity. Meg had told her Raoul de Chagny was a very handsome and charming man. His generosity had been well known all over Paris the last few years, especially this last year. He had used his own funds to give aid to those who had no place to go after the fire. After all that had happened he still supported the opera if not by funding then at least by praise of its worthy contribution to society.

Tamara suspected Christine had used her influence on the man to help her fellow performers. Meg had spoken in the highest terms of her sister Christine. Generous to a fault had been her assessment. She had been a little naïve where the world was concerned, but of a good moral compass. Tamara preferred to think of Christine as some young woman eager to make a name for herself on stage. One who had been willing to do anything, even pretend to continue to believe in an Angel of Music long after she had come of an age when those sorts of things were only childish imaginings.

She refused to admit to feeling any jealousy whatsoever toward a young woman she had not even met. One moreover who already had a husband and furthermore why should she be jealous of an inconsiderate, self-serving pompous man pretending to be a ghost? What had she to be jealous of? She had a career which many women would envy. Her financial situation continued to be on a sound footing over which she had complete control. So what if no man could be seen on her horizon? Women did not need a man in her life to feel complete. So why then did she wish her dark phantom would at least leave a note thanking her for her time two nights ago?

Lillian for her part trailed after Tamara hoping to catch sight of the mystery man. Tamara had let slip he had given his Christian name to her. Antoinette and Meg had been astounded as no one knew his name other than Antoinette, not even Christine. That had raised Tamara's spirits until no further contact had been made. Not even Antoinette had heard from him. She had tried to use the usual tunnel to his home only to find it had been rerouted to take her straight back to where she had started.

Erik had returned to his old tricks of shifting walls. Only a man of his genius could accomplish something so metaphysically impossible. The only thing to do during his times of quiet would be to wait for him to come looking for whoever he needed to speak with. Antoinette had a feeling it would not be her.

Tamara and Lillian had been in the office they used for only a short while when her grandmother made a sudden exclamation.

"Oh Tamara I have had a marvelous idea. Yes, we simply must do it. This would be the perfect time. The weather is perfect and all of Paris is coming back to the theatre for entertainment. What better way to get every social stratus together in harmony?"

Her grandmother all but jumped up and down in her seat. Seeing a stack of papers in front of her Tamara wondered what she had read that had caused the older woman so much excitement. She pushed back from her desk to stand and make her way to the desk opposite her own. Leaning over her grandmother's shoulder Tamara read the paper on the top of the stack. It appeared to be the list of patrons from past years. The last few years the de Chagny family had been the sole supporters of L'Opéra Populaire.

Lillian now having Tamara's complete attention sifted through the papers until she found an old order form for invitations. The order had been placed by the previous managers. The event had been the Bal Masque for New Year's Eve, the night the oh so mysterious and frightening Phantom had made his demand they perform his opera.

Tapping the paper with her fingernail Lillian said eagerly, "A ball. We must give a ball. What better way to introduce ourselves to everyone while gaining interest from prospective patrons. If we get enough patrons it would be less of a financial strain on the both of us. You must agree it would be an ideal situation."

Lillian did not add that it would be an ideal time for a certain ghost to make an appearance without anyone being the wiser. She almost giggled giddily thinking she might at last meet her Opera Ghost in the flesh. Oh if only she were thirty years younger.

Tamara did think it would be an excellent way to introduce themselves into the social setting of Parisian society. Invitations for dinner to several prominent families had been sent round and accepted by her grandmother. The evenings in question were many weeks away some months from now. Tamara had long ago thought that people of upper classes had lost the ability to act spontaneously if they had ever had it in the first place. Any social gathering or simple meal had to be planned meticulously in order to be considered successful.

A ball would take months of planning. With rehearsals just beginning a ball would be a nice way to have people see the new remodeled opera house. The expense of such an evening would be astronomical but Tamara felt it would be a wise investment. Just when she would have begun to offer her opinion on the subject a stagehand came to inform them of a delivery that had arrived. The same order had been filled yesterday and now the vendor wanted to be paid for a delivery they had not ordered.

Lillian waived Tamara out of the office with the young man. She had no wish to dicker with someone over the price of a side of beef or bushel of apples. She would much rather sit in the office going over the old clippings and reports of her Opera Ghost. Just having reached the portion of an article retelling of the murders and how everyone feared for their lives during that time a voice came booming from everywhere. It sounded as if the person could be within the very walls of the room or anywhere above or below.

"Madame Palmentar I wish a moment of your time." Erik regretted his sudden demand when the woman nearly fell from her chair as he frightened her.

"Oh dear Lord you gave me an unpleasant turn there for a moment. Is this you? The Opera Ghost? Well of course you are unless we have inherited a third specter. Either you must announce yourself in a less jarring manner or I shall insist you wear a bell around your neck. Another thing, it is ridiculous for me to have to refer to you as Opera Ghost or Phantom. You must have a name. What shall I call you?" Lillian used the tone she used back when her daughter had been young and misbehaved.

"Madame I have been called many names over the years, most of which are not fit for the delicate ears of a lady. I do beg your forgiveness for having startled you. As we are to be closer in the furture you have my permission to call me Erik."

"Oh well I must say it isn't everyday one gets to see, or rather speak to a famous entity. I suppose given your circumstances I can overlook certain disregard for proper introductions. From what I hear you are a person with a very interesting life and you are purported to be a man of some genius in many subjects. You honor me by allowing me to address you by your given name and you must call me Lillian." Lillian could not keep the awe from entering her words. She sounded like a star struck teenager worshiping some charismatic performer.

"Ah well my fame is not something I care to dwell on. As for an interesting life I suppose that is true but not one I would wish on anyone. I would much rather speak of our proposed partnership." Erik would never consent to working for anyone thus allowing them to have control over him. If he wanted to have legitimate say in this enterprise he would be purchasing the right to do so.

"Partnership?" Lillian felt confusion. They had not as of yet even spoken of him coming to work for the opera house. Needless to say he and Tamara had only spoken of his creative abilities. More to the point he had spoken of things sure to impress a woman or anyone for that matter. How could he know…She need not think on the matter any further. Recalling his peeping Tom antics she could only conclude he listened in on pretty much every conversation they had.

"Madame do you not wish to gain my considerable knowledge on matters concerning performances in all areas of what is to be presented to the public? I am here to offer my humble assistance in exchange for certain considerations."

"Exactly what sort of considerations are we talking about? I'll not do anything criminal or against my principles and did we not agree you must call me Lillian?" Lillian had a feeling his demands would have something to do with Tamara. She would only go along with something that would not put her granddaughter in danger.

"Well...Lillian, I am not a greedy man, nor do I wish to take anything from you without proper compensation. What I propose is that I purchase all but a small percentage of your stock in L'Opéra Populaire. In that way you still have a vested interest without the headache of worrying how to make the next performance successful. You'll have a generous sum to carry over into your twilight years and still retain a small interest in the business so you may have some say in what is presented. Of course I, as the major investor will have the final say in all matters but I do promise to listen to any credible ideas you or your daughter may have. Tamara must continue as our liason. That will part of any negotiations we may have. Now, I have presented my proposition I will leave you to think on the decision before you. I will give you two days before I will expect an answer.

Lillian didn't quite know what to say. He had taken her by surprise with his proposition. Money had not been mentioned other than in a general way. She had no idea what value the opera house actually had. For her it had simply been a chance for adventure and a way to put some excitement in Tamara's life. Seeing this as a chance to gain a little of what she herself wanted Lillian decided to take her chance. She may never have a better opportunity to make such a request of him.

"Well sir, I must tell you this offer sounds interesting but I prefer to do business face to face. Unless you can convince me you truly are a ghost I must insist upon speaking to you in person. I will hear no nonsense about your face. I have seen the drawings. I have read all the articles. Nothing I have seen or read thus far tend to make me think of you as anything other than a very compelling personality. One with a few foibles that may be understandable while highly irritating on some occasions. Now if you wish to come out and discuss this as a man should I will hear all you have to say. And to show I am speaking earnestly you may address me as Lillian. Will you grant me the same honor of addressing you by your Christian name?"

Erik didn't know whether to be incensed by her counter bargaining tactics or impressed she would press him to give that which he gave to very few people, his true name. He felt relief she had not made it a requirement he give his full name as he had never known his surname. When anything of a legal nature arose he had always gone by the name Erik Giry. Antoinette had not known he obliged himself by using her married name until long after they had been reacquainted when the opera house had reopened. If one of her requests had been he remove his mask all ties would have been severed there and then. Relief washed over him that he did not need to abandon his plans for the future.

At some point he would have need to reveal himself if his plan with Tamara went as he hoped. Doubtless she would wish for any beau to meet her grandmother. When he had first formulated the plan he had only been interested in proving he could seduce someone if he went about things in the right way. Within a short time his objective had changed to include being able to lure her into not only an intimate relationship but one she would willingly enmesh herself in without any sort of promises from him.

Only later had he thought better of his first ideas and changed to wanting Tamara to come to him completely surrendering herself into his hands, heart, mind, body and soul. That would require he gain her grandmother's approval to some degree. Alienating the grandmother would alienate the granddaughter as they were very close.

He would have to woo the grandmother into trusting him as well as the granddaughter. Different tactics would need to be used for each lady as his objective with each would have a different outcome. Having concluded he must reveal himself at some point he thought now would be as good as any other day. Maybe even better as he had yet to commit anything that would cause any real rancor toward him. Later his inability to handle incompetence well might have him doing something neither lady would think something a proper gentleman would do. His ideas on the matter of course would not hold sway with them as he would be the perpetrator of the misdeed.

Knowing at times his temper got the better of him he felt it would inevitably have him committing something inappropriate. Never would he allow himself to go as far as he had when pursuing Christine but there were still things he might do which would be considered a little over the top when seeking to have his will obeyed. Placing his fate in the hands of this woman Erik triggered the mechanism which slid open the panel he stood behind while speaking to Lillian. Even though she knew he had been there it still caused her a moment of uncertainty to see a man dressed all in black stepping out of an opening where only moments ago there had been a solid wall.

He appeared to be just as imposing in person as he seemed when speaking incognito. Everyone from before had thought him long dead and now had returned as a real ghost to exact revenge. At times she had to admit she questioned whether or not Christine and Raoul had not exaggerated some things as well as the others who had been involved personally.

Having the former Opera Ghost standing before her added veracity to Lillian's thoughts of him and Tamara together and perhaps coming to some sort of understanding romantically. Of course if he still harbored feelings for Madame de Chagny or harmed anyone she would pack Tamara off personally on a fast boat to England.

Erik waited for some sort of reaction from Lillian. When nothing had been forthcoming after several seconds had past he began to feel uncertain about his decision. She seemed to be inspecting him thoroughly. He would not fidget, he absolutely would not fidget under this woman's inspection. As a child had he not endured far worse? At least she did not throw things at him while cursing his very existence.

"Well now aren't you the handsome one? Those accounts in the papers did not do you justice. If I were thirty years younger…well we wouldn't be in this situation now would we? Yes, I do think you will do quite nicely. Please come in and be seated. I shall ring for tea and a light lunch. We will get to know one another better then discuss our business concerns."

If Erik thought he would be able to dominate the conversation he soon learned the error of his ways. The woman may seem all sweet cooperation but she had a steel trap for a mind and a tricky way of leading him where she wished him to go. It had always been his experience that he led others where he wished for them to go. This then was a novel experience.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Things are not well for my sister. The doctor who was to do the surgery on her leg is now telling her he won't do it. He says she has lived with a broken leg for 2 yrs. and managed to function. She told him about me hearing them admitting they broke her femur in recovery and that is on top of what the nurses damaged in her leg a couple of nights before. Once he found out she had a witness he then began to backpeddal and say well maybe he could do the surgery. He just didn't want to get involved in the lawsuit from the other hospital. Once he was in the clear he was all gunhoe again. She has opted to return to Ky. and leave Tenn. She doesn't want any of those doctors touching her again. She will wait for her original surgeon from Ky. who did the last 2 surgeries on her leg. She has a long haul ahead of her. Keep us in your prayers. **

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Agendas **

Lillian and Erik in the end did not speak of his offer to purchase a controlling interest in the opera house. Much to his chagrin the lady continued to work the conversation around to his own personal information. Every time he thought he had the upper hand soon the conversation returned to questions he considered far too personal and difficult to answer. A man such as he did not have much history to retell other than his misdeeds during his time at the opera house and he would have thought everyone knew just about all that went on by now. Little had been kept out of the papers or trapped in silence of every chorus girl or ballet rat. Most of Paris could quote chater and verse all the details of his failed romance.

Not having a family to speak of made for a short interrogation on that point. After having satisfied her questions as to his family he had thought Lillian would then move on to speaking about the business at hand. For a woman claiming to want to disguss this matter she turned every attempt on his part to do so in another direction. He wished to close that matter so he could then turn the conversation toward Tamara. He concluded Lillian would have made a great interrogator. She lulled him into thinking she had run out of questions only to begin another barrage when he would have asked his own questions.

In the past it had amused him how women of certain social standing had knowledge in the ways to circumvent topics one wished to avoid. In his opinion the woman had a steel trap for a mind. Little would get past her that she did not wish to ignore. Only in the beginning had he thought of her as an easily led older woman, now he knew better.

Considering where he came from and who he was he would have thought she would have more objections to his interest in her granddaughter. Confusion over just who had been in charge of their meeting still plagued Erik. He had come away with nothing concrete as to if she would sell him the larger portion of her interest in the opera house. He could only state with any certainty that the woman now knew more about him than even Antoinette. How that came about he could not really say other than the woman pretended to be of a semi-feeble mind while acting just the opposite.

During their conversation he had gotten the impression that for whatever reason Lillian would not be adverse to his pursuance of Tamara. That alone would have people believing the woman of being in possession of a cracked most of the discussion Erik had not known if he were coming or going. She had jumped from one subject to another without any apparent reason for doing so. When she had begun to question him about Christine and his relationship with her that had been when he had drawn the line. He regretted it now that he had exited angrily without warning. He had not come to his senses until he had found himself in his own home. Even then he at first had not recognized where he had gone. His home had been under major renovations ever since he had made the decision to approach Tamara on a romantic level.

Night and day he had toiled, not to recreate his former home, but something even more magnificent, something more…normal. If he would be bringing Tamara down below he must have a presentable place in which to woo her. Normalcy meant a proper home. Since he did not have the option of bringing anyone down here he would do the renovations himself.

For his purposes he would only need to finish two or three rooms. Plumbing had been one of his first considerations. He could not entertain a gentile woman and expect her to use the same sort of facilities used by men and women of a common upbringing. He knew all about how the favored few lived. Money had always been something that bought a better standard of living regardless if the poorer person worked thrice as hard for their pay.

Many had considered Erik a parasite feeding off the managers. What those managers had not let be known had been how he helped keep the standards up to par in all areas of the business. When stagehands had too much to drink, it had been Erik making a visit to them with threats of reprisals if they harmed anyone due to intoxication or for any other reason. He had taken his responsibility as the opera house conscience seriously.

Only once, with Joseph Buquet had he used excessive force as punishment for misdeeds. Piangi…well Piangi had since become a cross Erik must bear. He did not try to excuse that murder, for murder had been what it was. If he could undo it he would. Things were what they were. He must live with Piangi's blood on his hands. In time he hoped he could make restitution for that sin. Confession to a priest had given him God's pardon. Man's forgiveness he may never receive. As for his own forgiveness with time he would perhaps feel he had atoned. Nothing he could do would equal taking a man's life but he would do what he could to ease his feelings of guilt.

If he could manage to bring prosperity back to the opera house then that may in a small way clear a little from his slate of sins. Prosperity meant money, money meant jobs which meant everyone came out ahead. At times he could be conceited he knew about his creativity, but he also knew he had just cause. The music which began in his head then came out through his fingers had always been something even he felt awed to hear what God had given to him.

While he worked on his new home Erik could not get Tamara out of his head for long. Little effort had been needed for him to recall just how sweet she smelled or how soft she had been when he held her against him. Just the thought of her made his body harden with want. For so long Christine had seemed to be the woman he had been destined to reenter society with. Now he felt something growing inside of him that gained power over him with every passing second he breathed. He must confront Christine once more and what better time than at a masquerade ball?

He must make certain Lillian and Tamara agreed to go ahead with the ball they had discussed. He would have need to speak with Antoinette soon as she had been leaving notes in box five that he had ignored until now. With certain things needing his full attention he did not want his nosy friend trying to invade his home. He wouldn't put it past her, which had been the reason he had been rerouting many of his tunnels.

When he brought Tamara down to his home for the first time he wanted everything to be perfect. Everything would not need to be complete other than those rooms she would be needing access to, his living room, dining room and a facility to freshen up. He would not be attempting to lure her into his bed despite what his previous plan had been. This time around he would discover what made the object of his affection the person she was and let her find out about the man he was also. No, he would not be needing a bed for her as he had no intention of having her stay as Christine had. Tamara's visit to his home would be strictly for dinner and conversation. He could not deny he would relish taking things further but knew she would not be ready for that sort of commitment to him. Maybe she never would. For all he knew she would prefer to have the man who puts a ring on her finger take her maidenhead.

Later when he felt he had won the lady in question's trust as well as her affection if even in a limited way then and only then would he use his persuasive powers to woo her into his bed. He had waited thirty-one years to bed a woman he could wait a few weeks more. Optimism of his success let him convince himself that his courtship would be of short duration. It did not occur to him that he would be playing with a young woman's emotions once more. He only saw it as a game to win what he wanted without risking his heart. Erik had a lot to learn about how love worked. It came sometimes in the most unlikely way with the most unlikely people.

Tamara tried to avoid her grandmother as much as possible. At first when her grandmother made avoidance all too easy Tamara had been relieved. Only later when her grandmother continued to remain of cheery spirits while not having gained an audience with the man she now knew as Erik, things began to take on a different light. Knowing her grandmother's penchant for stirring the pot to get reactions out of those around her Tamara questioned Antoinette and Meg if they had seen her grandmother sneaking about in a suspicious manner.

Her questioning startled both women. It had not been Lillian they had seen roaming the corridors at all hours nor had it been Lillian pecking at the walls as she walked along. Antoinette had put it down to Tamara's wish to ascertain how Erik managed to travel from one end of the opera house to the other without ever being seen. Now she asked if her grandmother had been sneaking around looking for Erik, not their Phantom or Opera Ghost but Erik the man. Antoinette had to wonder why Erik would disclose his true name to someone who for all intents and purposes had been and still was a stranger.

Erik had disregarded all of her notes she had placed in his box. If he did not see fit to contact her soon she would be making the journey below to look for herself for the darn man. For a man who had been all up in the opera houses' business he had lately been keeping quiet which brought the hairs up on Antoinette's arms and neck expecting the worst.

Antoinette hoped they were not headed in the direction of another disaster by Erik's hands. She had hoped he would take an interest in the opera house once they started rehearsals but had not anticipated the new owners being too females, one which had clearly drawn Erik's interest.

Thank the Lord Tamara could not sing and had no wish to take to the stage.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Invitations**

Christine stared out her sitting room window with the letter from Madame Giry hanging limply from her hand. She had seen Madame and Meg a couple of times since she and Raoul had married. Madame and Meg had stood beside her as she had taken her vows. The night before the wedding she had agonized over whether what she was doing would be the correct thing to do. She loved Raoul, she had no doubts about that. What had troubled her had been how she felt for the man she left behind. Maman had told her to follow her heart. After much soul searching in the end she knew Raoul would always hold most of her heart.

Her angel would hold a special secret place in her heart she would visit only in privacy. Meg had been a godsend over the past year, especially when she and Maman had been hired back by the reopened L'Opéra Populaire. Raoul had seen how miserable she had been and asked if she would want to audition for a place in the chorus. Missing the whole atmosphere and the variety of people it had been hard to refuse Raoul's kind offer. She could not say with any surety that her Angel had left the catacombs or if he still haunted the opera house.

Maman would not confirm or deny his occupancy. Meg had no idea really but held the opinion he would have little cause to leave his home. If he were dead her mother would have grieved his loss. Since nothing of that nature had occurred she felt he still lived somewhere down beneath the opera house as he always had. It had been a month or more since they last spoke and during that time new managers had come to take over the opera house. There had been no reports in the papers about any strange goings on within the walls of her former home. That didn't mean her angel did not still reside there. In the past only the most outrageous of his pranks made it into the paper such as deaths attributed to his hand. This past year she had tried to put all that business behind her. Now she had a letter informing her a ball would be held and as past patrons and prospective future patrons she and Raoul would of necessity have to attend. Whether or not Raoul would agree to attend she did not know. She wished to attend as she felt certain if her angel were within those walls he would make himself known to her.

Raoul would likely fear for their safety. Even she could not say for sure if the man known as the Phantom or Opera Ghost would not do something reprehensible. He had let her go but who was to say he would do so again? She could not lose Raoul nor did she have any wish to live as some hermit. If only her angel would be reasonable she could bring him out into the light, away from that horrible dark world he lived in. Since being away from his influence Christine could see how deeply she had come to depend on him for much of her social life as well as the comfort of someone she thought of as like a family member.

Always she had deferred to his commands. Maman had known who he truly was but had let her live on in ignorance. Looking back Christine realized she was culpable for much that had gone on in the later years. Since she had turned twelve she had lost her belief in the Angel of Music much the same as she had in Father Christmas.

She had wanted to continue the charade just in case. Perhaps deep within her subconscious she had known her angel to be a man but to acknowledge him as such might have him leaving her if he thought she did not need him any longer. Feeling frightened of losing him she had allowed herself to pretend. Regrets now were worthless as the tragedy her stupid selfishness had caused could not be undone. Neither Piangi nor Joseph Buguet could be resurrected. By the grace of God no one had been killed by the fire. There were several serious injuries but at least no deaths could be added to her angels sins, at least not because of the fire.

Raoul had felt guilt for his part in the tragedy. Regardless of how many times she and Maman told him he did what he felt necessary just as Maman had when she showed Raoul the way down below the opera house. That journey had almost cost Raoul his life, not only by one of her Angel's traps but by the man himself. If not for his regaining some semblance of his humanity Raoul would be long dead now.

Compassion for her Angel had won their freedom. Christine did not know where she had dredged up the courage to go to that man who had only moments before threatened to end Raoul's life if she did not consent to go with him, to choose him. Never had they touched before he had brought her down to his home that first night after her success on stage. She closed her eyes remembering how enraptured she had been with him and his home. To her it had looked as if he had pulled all the brightest stars down from the sky placing them about the underground waterways and his grotto.

In that moment that he held out his hand to help her from the boat he could have had her do anything he asked. All he had wanted had been her voice, at least that had been his initial proclamation. Only later had she learned how he felt about her. If he had made it known to her that first night Christine could not be certain she would not have willingly stayed with him.

His anger at her for removing his mask had at first frightened her but once she saw the pain etched in his face, that horrible face, she had felt pity for him. What God had given him for a face did have the substance of nightmares but he had also been blessed with such perfection on the unmarred side, given time a woman could overlook such a flaw. As hard as she tried she could not find any excuse for her horror upon seeing him unmasked. He had not been that hideous. After much soul searching she had concluded she had been shallow and cruel. It had not been fair to judge him by Raoul's easy manner or handsome face.

Her Angel had not been afforded the same opportunities Raoul had been given all his life. The boy Maman had brought to the opera house had to fight for everything just to survive. Every day he had to struggle against the dark world he inhabited to retain a small portion of humanity the gypsies had not beaten out of him.

Nights for weeks afterward Christine would lie in her bed crying for that boy and the man he had become. She felt pity as well as an overwhelming guilt for having cost him so much when all he had wanted had been her acceptance of his love. At the time leaving him had been an easy choice to make. Having time to think over everything, Christine had to admit at times she had doubts whether she had made the right choice. Not because she did not love Raoul wholeheartedly, but because her Angel had been left with no hope, no future. If she had stayed she could have persuaded him to leave the supposed safety of the dark catacombs. What she wouldn't give to hear him play and sing to her. Never would she forget how it had felt to be on stage with him singing to one another.

Passion had been a common bond that night. For a short time Christine had forgotten the plan as the man so close to her had driven every thought from her head. In those moments she had been completely under his spell. If he had not sung to her the exact words Raoul and she had sung that night on the rooftop perhaps she would have succumbed to him completely.

For such a long time she had been confused as to how she could care for someone who had essentially held her mind prisoner for many years. His power over her had been so complete he controlled who she saw or what she did in or outside the opera house. When she had asked Maman why she had allowed him to retain such a hold on her, the answer had been twofold. First and foremost her surrogate mother had felt helpless to console her new ward upon Christine's father's death. Second the woman had seen her Angel of Music as a way to bring Christine solace when none had been able to comfort the grieving child she had been.

In the beginning it had been a case of him teaching her music, developing her voice and giving comfort during the nights when the nightmares would awaken the then young Christine. His voice had been the only thing that had given her any relief from the horror her nights had become at that time. Shamefully Christine recalled how she had let her childish fears of the stories her father had told her as a child influence her on into young adulthood. Her father's tale of the Angel of Music had been one she had kept close to her heart as a child when her father had passed. The tale had given her hope her father would return to her as a angel.

Her belief had carried over into her teenage years. Perhaps she had persuaded herself it would not harm anyone to continue to pretend in her belief. It had been harder when her Angel had given her gifts of roses with black ribbons affixed to the stems. Many other gifts had been presented to her by Maman. If only she could have gained the courage to confront her teacher before things had gone so far out of control so much could have been different. People would not have had to suffer because her teacher had lost all reason.

That last night had nearly killed Christine when she had to leave him alone suffering such agony. She had really thought he would give himself over to the mob coming for him. She had never seen such total devastation in anyone before. Once he had come to his senses he had seemed to give up on life. The wish for death had been clearly looking back at Christine from his eyes when he had told her to go with Raoul. Knowing she could not leave him with nothing she had given him the only thing she had to hand as a token of how she felt. It had been the ring he had given her, the one he had taken from her neck the night of the masquerade. When she had placed in his hands he had looked up at her with such love it had been nearly more than she could bear. So much pain had been mixed with the love for one moment she had wanted to stay with him regardless of the consequences. Raoul had friends and family, her Angel had no one but her.

When he had professed his love as tears streamed down his tortured face if she had not turned quickly away she would have been on her knees telling him she would stay with him and be whatever he needed her to be. She could not profess love but she could have given him solace to sooth his tortured soul.

Raising the letter in her hand she reread its contents. It still said the same thing, still raised the same dilemma as before. No matter how many times she read it in the end she must come to some conclusion. This concerned Raoul as well so she must consult him. Without speaking to him she knew what his immediate reaction would be.

Shortly after they had left the burning opera house Raoul had taken her to his country estate. His parents had been much kinder than she would have expected after learning what had nearly happened to Raoul. She had met them before when Raoul had brought her home after Joseph Buquet's accident.

She and Raoul could not agree on that issue. Christine maintained they could not be certain what had happened on the catwalk and Raoul felt adamantly convinced Joseph had been sent to his death by her Angel. In order to justify her loyalty to her tutor, Christine had to believe Joseph's death had been an accident. Joseph had not been well liked among any of the performers or opera house staff. He had been a dirty, perverted womanizer who took advantage of the younger women in the ballet corps and chorus. He had always had ways to spy into the dressing rooms which had been why she and Meg never dressed out in the open. Time after time holes had been plugged only for another to be discovered later. No one knew who had found the holes or plastered them over but all the female members of the opera house had been grateful.

Speculation had been that the Opera Ghost had taken offence at Joseph's perfidy and taken measures to punish him. Not a tear had been shed for Joseph's passing. The only upset had been that his death had been during a performance which made for bad publicity among the theatre attendees.

Christine felt it best to approach Raoul after a night spent in blissful surrender. His mood may be mellowed enough for him to listen to her reasons for wanting to attend the ball. A formal invitation would be forthcoming shortly and Christine needed to have Raoul's acceptance of her wish to attend. He would never forbid her to go but could show his displeasure very clearly with dark browed stares that she would feel in her back at times. He had been quick to temper but just as quick to lose his anger when they had any marital disagreements.

Maman told her they were both yet young and wanting their own way. With time they would mature enough to discuss things without things ending in a few hours of hostile silence. Christine hated those few times they had been at odds. It usually had to do with any trips to Paris she would like to make. Raoul's fear of her veing kidnapped had become quite tedious at times.

Nothing she or Maman could say would have him think anything but the worst. Once in fit of anger she had told Raoul that her Angel could just as easily take her from her very bed with no one being the wiser until they awoke the next morning. That had led to sleepless nights for poor Raoul. He had been afraid to close his eyes lest she disappear.

Things had gone much as she imagined they would. Raoul had stormed about giving her reason after reason they should not place any trust in the fact that all had been quiet thus far. Nothing had been let out to the public about any ghostly visits anywhere within the opera house. The new managers had kept all news to the next performance and plans for the upcoming ball.

Christine had taken Raoul to task for not mentioning the ball before. His excuse had been that he hoped he would not be called upon to attend although propriety demanded he do just that. An invitation arriving in the mail would be a formality not a requirement. Patrons, especially since his family contributed almost solely to the L'Opéra Populaire in the past, his attendance would be a foregone conclusion.

After calming down they had been able to discuss things rationally. Christine had asked Raoul if he honestly thought her mother would put her in danger a second time knowing what the man had done the last time. Raoul had held his own council concerning Madame Giry's willingness to deny her charge anything he demanded of her. Look how many years she had been under his thumb and all the things he had directed her to do on his behalf. Perhaps she would not go so far as to condone another kidnapping but would encourage a meeting between Christine and her tutor.

When the invitation came they would accept. Raoul would make certain he would be well armed and hire men to watch the proceedings closely. He would not want to have harm come to Christine's mentor or anyone else. He hoped it would not come to that. Christine would never forgive him if he harmed that misguided man in any permanent way. Raoul felt pity for him even while he knew he could not let that influence his vigilance in any way. He must always be on the alert and ready to react in an appropriate manner. Christine would not be taken from him again. Ever.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Revealtions**

Tamara and her grandmother along with Antoinette and Meg had spent almost every waking moment with planning the ball and searching for just the right costumes. Lillian, Antoinette and Meg had been to many similar balls while this would be a first for Tamara. Her goal was to outshine a particular ex diva. If asked she would deny such a thing with her last breath. It made little sense and she had given herself many headaches trying to justify her reasoning.

All had been quiet concerning Erik. The longer he stayed away with no contact the more Tamara came to believe him to be no more than a nuisance in her life. Some brief insanity must had taken hold of her the night she met with him. Some illness or other had impaired her judgment. She would not let herself admit to feeling in any way chagrined by his lack of interest in her personally. Denying her jealousy of Christine every time it raised its ugly head did not make it any the less a reality, one she continued to deny quite uselessly.

Given enough time she had convinced herself that the less she had to do with the man the better. Being of an unsound mind he could hold potential danger for everyone. Instead of being upset she should feel glad he had no interest in her. As much as she told herself all of this it did not fill the hollow pit in her stomach that had developed as the days had gone by with no word, not even a note from him.

Her grandmother had been especially cheerful the past couple of weeks. Tamara had her suspicions that her grandmother and Erik had spoken and came to some sort of agreement but no amount of questioning on Tamara's part had broken the older woman's cheerful silence. The most she got was a pat on the cheek with a cheery reasurrance that everything would work out for the best. Her Grandmother Lily would explain no more than that which explained absolutly nothing.

Having gained nothing after several days of repeated questioning Tamara had thrown her hands up in frustration. When the time felt right her grandmother would reveal whatever scheme she and Erik had been cooking up behind her back. Nothing hurtful Tamara felt sure would befall her. Harming her granddaughter would be the furthest thing from Lillian's mind. What her grandmother failed to remember during these times were the facts of common sense. Many times Tamara had been left embarrassed by something her grandmother had lovingly arranged for her.

Tamara had been of two minds what to think when the acceptance letter had come from the de Chagny's. It had not slipped her notice that the letter had been tampered with. Questioning her grandmother had settled the matter as to who had been so anxious to read the letter they had invaded the privacy of another's mail. Liilian had denied opening any of the invitations as that part of the ball belonged to Tamara. Lillian and Antoinette were handling the ball itself. Knowing of Erik's past trespasses in that area she had to concur he had been the culprit. She would not let her jealousy over his interest in Christine concern her. Jealousy she concluded had been the emotion nearly driving her to shucking the letter in the rubbish bin. It would accomplish nothing other than satisfying her inner childish wish in a small way, to pull out a woman's hair she did not even know. Since she could not give into that pettiness the letter had been a viable substitute, one she had overcome only by refusing to play the role of a jealous castoff...cast off what? Lover? Certainly not! Potential lover...perhaps. Definitely she would have been the next in line for Erik's romantic displays of affection or at least she thought so. Perhaps it had been all in her own imagination. Well she was no one's second best. Plenty of men would have her if she took a moment to reflect on such matters which she would not.

Years of acting as if in control at all times had won over her petty thoughts of revenge. Why this man had taken over her mind in this manner still baffled her. One meeting and he filled her thoughts unless she kept busy. Her dreams she did not care to remember. Every morning she woke flushed as well as warmed from the inside out. A pleasant warmth, one not associated with any illness or fever had been her constant companion upon waking every morning.

She could not even say why she had ceased covering the mirror or at least not anything she could admit to and still feel a lady. Her dressing screen still afforded her privacy each morning and night when she dressed and undressed. If she had secretly been hoping Erik would pay her a visit she had been disappointed as he continued to be conspicuously absent at least as far as she knew.

It did not help her mood when the acceptance from the de Chagny's had come within mere days of it being sent out. Where she had been irritable on that day her grandmother had flitted about as if floating on a cloud. At long last Lillian would get her wish to meet the other two people in the trio of star crossed lovers.

Lillian had expressed concern at having the de Chagny's within spitting distance of Erik. Knowing about the Phantom's penchant for the Punjab lasso she had remarked several times they must make certain no guests wandered about where they might meet a certain person who wished to continue to play the ghost.

Antoinette and Meg were both excited as well as worried about the outcome the night of the ball. This would be Christine's first night back within the walls of the opera house. Much of it remained the same but there had been some changes. Modernization of the plumbing and heating had been one of the major changes. Female managers had been another. Specualtion about Tamara's relationship with their resident ghost ran rife among the opera house community. Very little could be kept secret among this gossippy conglomeration of personalities.

Erik had been busy preparing his home so he might entertain Tamara in the custom of young men everywhere, baring a chaperone of course. What need had he of a chaperone? Had he not sworn to himself he would not be moving things along too quickly? Even if his mind and body were at war he felt his intellect would win out in this instance.

He had been a little depressed the day he had read of Christine's return for the ball. His depression had not stemmed from having her within his domain again, it had been because she would be returning to him a married woman, one who no longer would be of chaste virtue. Many times he had visualized just how it would be between him and Christine. As unrealistic as it had been it still hurt to think of her lying with a man, particularly one who looked as handsome as Raoul. All his romantic imaginings had turned to dust after Christine had gone, not immediately but eventually reality had come to call.

Searching his heart and soul Erik had concluded he still cared deeply for Christine. He probably would for the remainder of his life. Did he still love her with his passionate soul as he had thought he had before? No. His love had not been able to live forever without something to feed it. Eventually only an ideal remained of how much he had cared for Christine. Whether or not he would risk loving anyone again remained to be seen. His objective with Tamara had nothing to do with love, not everlasting love. If he let himself he could come to have those feelings for her but he would not venture into loves web again so soon. He would not be caught loving where there would never be a chance for anything permanent.

Once Tamara saw who he really was, and some day she would, everything would come crashing down. He would guard his heart diligently this time. Mutual sexual gratification would all he would offer or seek in return. He felt safe in this matter as no one could love him. This he had at last accepted with Christine's last blow in leaving him. It did not matter if he had released her, ordered her to go. If she had loved him nothing could have driven her away. Her love had not been as strong as his had been for her.

With all these thoughts running through his head Erik prepared to bring Tamara down below for the first time. He had debated whether to invite her in the proper way with a note and had discarded that plan. Once he had her down here he would let her spew and hiss at him for a time then do his best to win her approval. He was not without persuasive powers. Had he not held her in his arms for the duration of their first dance? She had not shunned his touch any of those times he had stolen a caress. Not even any angry words damning him to hell had been forthcoming, which if truth be told he had expected.

Taking great pains with his appearance Erik would keep to his plan not to let her see too much of him. A shadowy glimpse now and then may intrigue her where a full on look at him may send her screaming into the tunnels. He had tried out every angle when positioning the lighting. Instead of candlelight on the table Erik had fashioned a crystal chandelier, much like the new one in the opera auditorium, on a lesser scale of course. Hoisted to the topmost height of the stone ceiling it gave off a romantic glow without being enough light to see him clearly. He had made the table longer than necessary for his use as an eating surface but rudimentary to his need for hiding his face. Fron one end to another some twelve feet separated the two ends of the table. With only the two of them he hopes she did not insist they dine closer together.

Never having entertained in his home before, Erik wanted this night to go smoothly. To that end he had removed every possible reminder of Christine and their past together. After the mob had left there had been little left of any monetary value but the drawings of Christine he had labored over to painstakingly he had considered priceless. Now he thought of them as mementos and nothing more.

Having known that it would not do to have reminders of one woman lying around when entertaining a woman you wished to win favor with, not good form at all he had tossed everything in one of the unfinished rooms. He wished to be perceived as a gentleman knowledgeable in the way the world worked even if he had not one clue, or at least nothing that would serve him tonight.

Everything had been readied and now he only needed to await an appropriate dinner hour to whisk his guest down to his home. It had been easy for him to learn Tamara's schedule. To his shame he had not given up watching her from behind the mirror when any opportunity was afforded him. She of course had taken to dressing behind a screen and wearing one of those infernal nightgowns. He felt she knew of his observations because often he caught her sending glances toward her mirror and he would swear a time or two she had smiled or even waved her hand in a brief gesture acknowledging his presence.

Blessedly she did stoke the fire at night which gave him such sinful glimpses of what that voluminous gown covered. Her curvaceous figure could be seen when the light of the fire shown through the material to the other side. He did not know how many more nights his heart could take such sights or how long the beast within could be kept at bay.

Lately his dreams had been far more sensual and more vivid than ever before. Taking care of his own pleasure had not been a new thing but he had hoped his next release would be inside a woman. Desire to mate with a woman nearly drove him to commit regrettable follies. So far he had tempered his urges with music and keeping his mind and hands busy with work.

Nervously Erik watched the hands slowly move around the face of the clock. Minute by minute the time grew closer for him to seek his place at the mirror. Unlike other nights, tonight he would be stepping through that portal then either bringing a willing woman with him or one who would likely scratch his eyes out given ample opportunity. A little magic would have her lights going out leaving her in darkness. He did not want her to see him in any bright lighting.

His best hope would be to persuade her into coming of her own volition. If the damn clock hands would ever move from one hour to the next instead of clinging to the hour he had begun watching the clock he could begin his evening of seduction. The last hour had passed so slowly a snail could have crawled down the Opera House Boulevard then come back again with time to spare.

To hell with waiting. If she was not in her room he would be hunting her down. This had not been his original plan but it worked for him now. He had lost patience for waiting for this evening to come. This would be the evening he won her over so she would consent to come to him every evening then eventually stay the night as his lover.

Striding with much more speed than usual it did not take long for Erik's long legs to be churning away at the distance separating him and the object of his desires. Heaven help anyone who might try to impede his progress tonight. By the time he reached the mirror he could hardly breath. He had to bend down with his hands on his knees for a few minutes. Sweat dripped from his forehead and the damn wig began to make his scalp itch. Damned if he would go all the way back down to freshen up and chance missing her. If she went to bed he could not as a gentleman go in with the intention of taking her from her bed. He did have a few scruples. Not many but a few.

Wiping his forehead with his handkerchief, Erik looked into Tamara's empty room. Empty of human occupation at least. His eyes alighted on two very large bouquets of flowers. One held a mixture of different flowers. The other had red roses with sprigs of baby's breath and greenery.

Debating whether or not to risk being caught reading the cards at last his curiosity drove him to open the portal into Tamara's room. Stepping inside his natural instincts brought him to the red roses first. Red roses represented love. Who would send such an offering to Tamara? He had not seen her with any men other than personnel of the opera house. There had been no mention of any man left back in England. From his conversation with Lillian he had gathered Tamara had never really had a man court her. By all accounts she had as little experience with the relationship between men and women as he did.

Taking the gold embossed card from its perch among the blooms Erik read the what had been printed. Written in a lavish hand he read, _Until we next meet. Rutherford Taylor, Esq._ Damned pretentious nobleman, that's who sent her a bouquet.

Agitatedly he paced about the room. Stopping he flicked the card against his fingers as the temptation to rip it to shreds then toss the bouquet in some forgotten tunnel nearly overtook his good sense. Glancing at the clock on her mantle he debated whether or not he had time to go down to Lillian's room to try to catch her in. Needing to know who this man was that had the presumption his gift would be welcomed.

He went back into the passageway to make his way a little way down from where Tamara's room was located. Fortuitously her grandmother's room had only been a few doors down so the distance had not been far. If she had been on an upper or lower floor he might have had to rethink seeking her out.

Lillian sat at her desk reading papers. He could hear her humming. Since Lillian had returned to her room it stood to reason Tamara would have also. Not wishing to startle her Erik spoke softly to her to gain her attention.

"Madame, might have a word?' He observed her start of surprise as she pressed her hand to her chest.

"My goodness you gave me a fright. Much more of this and I will insist you wear a cowbell. Please do come in. Where have you been? I had thought we had begun a friendship which hopefully would develop into a business relationship." She had missed him in his absence. Silly really, as they had only just met recently and only spoken in the most general of terms.

"Madame if it would not be an imposition I have a few questions I would like to ask." He didn't have long to wait for her excited reply.

"Oh heavens sakes, of course you may ask me anything you like. If I find it impertinent I may decline to answer. So please feel free to pose your questions." Sitting up properly with her hands folded, back straight and ankles crossed, Lillian waited for him to address her.

"Madame who might a gentleman by the name of Rutherford Taylor be to you and Tamara?" It took great fortitude on his part not to grit his teeth when he spoke the man's name. Perhaps he had not concealed his anger as well as he thought as Lillian sat further back in her chair. She leaned back as far away from him as the chair would allow.

"Well for goodness sake what has poor dear Rutherford done to you? Do you know…well of course you don't know him or else why would you enquire about him? Rutherford is my lawyer and as far as I know he has only met Tamara the one time. The time the rascal tattled on me when I bought the opera house. Tamara tends to avoid him at any social functions.

Rutherford took over his father's practice. Now Simon Taylor, he was a real gentleman. So thoughtful and quite understanding about my need to help where I can." Frowning a little she continued, "His father never minded how I spent my money as long as I didn't give too large a sum to any one person. Anyone asking for a large amount he considered a shyster. Tamara thought they were ne'er–do–wells."

"So this…Monsieur Taylor is nothing more than an acquaintance to Tamara?" Erik felt his hope rising even as he tried to quash his feeling of overconfidence.

"Well I had thought they had no interest other than my finances but now I am not sure what their relationship has become. Tamara suggested we send him an invitation to the upcoming ball. Her reason for doing so had been to let him see how the investment was coming along. It wouldn't bother me if he considered it a frivolous investment. Tamara wanted to let him see we were making progress toward a profit. Now that I think of it I can't imagine why she would care."

This conversation had taken a turn Erik did not care for. He would not let some other man come into Tamara's life and try to win her favor.

"If you saw Rutherford's gift then you must have seen Monsieur de Chagny's. Such a lovely gesture, one I know Tamara appreciated. She has never had gifts from anyone other than family. When the bouquets arrived you should have seen how excited she was. Her demeanor I must say would have shocked those who think she is too staid in her attitude."

Erik had stiffened when he heard the name de Chagny. He had not taken time to see who had given her the other flowers as the first one had been from an unknown man. That had taken up his interest at that point. As hard as he tried he could not dismiss Raoul as a man of interest for Tamara even knowing the man had a beautiful woman at his side already. Christine's love he knew would be enough incentive for any man to remain loyal. Even knowing that he felt the jealous rage roiling up from the depths where he had pushed his hatred for Raoul.

Only when he felt the pain of his nails digging into his palms did he realize how tightly he clenched his fists. This indicated just how much he still hated the man who had taken the woman Erik had considered to be his life long love. Having begun to believe he had moved passed Christine's hold on him, now Erik felt perhaps he had been premature in dismissing how much she still had a hold on him. If he wanted to pursue Tamara it did not seem right to do so if he still had strong feelings for Christine.

He of all people knew just how often men came to the theatre just to win a young ballerina or chorus girl's interest for a night. Those men had wives they professed to love yet sought out the comfort of other women. He felt disgusted with himself for feeling any loyalty to Christine. Here he had an opportunity to have a little of what other men have and he felt guilt for pursuing it because of some unrequited feelings he still had for Christine.

So much time had passed since he had even seen or spoken to Christine Erik had presumed that he had indeed placed her in his past where he would keep her as a memory to cherish. Now it had become glaringly obvious he still hankered after a woman who had left him for another. One who had feared him even while showing him a modicum of compassion and the hated pity he knew she felt for him. Pity he could live without, especially from Christine.

Erik cursed his inability to remove all of Christine from his mind. Nothing, not even his love for Christine would stop him from attaining what he wanted from Tamara. If that made him into something vile he could live with that. Had he not always been imagined as some disciple of the devil by everyone? In his own defense he would not be taking anything the woman did not willingly offer.

He declined to answer Lillian's statement that he knew de Chagny had sent Tamara the second arrangement of flowers. With his agitation mounting he must remove himself from Lillian's presence before he did something regrettable, like smash everything within arms reach.

Abruptly he excused himself leaving as suddenly as he had appeared. It mattered little to him what she might think of his behavior. More important matters plagued his mind just now. He would force himself to focus on Tamara. The ball would offer him ample opportunity to confront Christine just as he had planned to do before. Nothing had happened that would change his mind. He would forge ahead toward his goal.

**A/N: Happy holiday everyone. I shall be spending mine alone for the first time in my life. A depressing prospect. On an up note the doctors think my sister's health has improved enough they can do the surgery on her leg as soon as next week if all goes well. Then 8 weeks of rehab then home after the new year. Maybe my own problems will be over by then as well, doubt it, but I can live in hope. Peace and love to all who read my stories.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Love is in the Air**

After leaving Lillian Erik had debated if he could follow through with his plan to seduce Tamara beginning tonight with dinner and a few romantic gestures. He had wanted to sway her toward being susceptible to his voice as she had been on the rooftop. The difference being this time he would be taking her lips in a kiss. Nervousness nearly drove him to his liquor cabinet. He had debated this action back and forth for days. Having no real experience to call upon he had to rely on theory and what he read in books. Christine's kisses had been passionate. Unfortunately for Erik he had been too traumatized to really enjoy them to the fullest. His response had left a lot to be desired. When he thought upon those two kisses it came to him he had been a non-participant. He had not responded in the minutest sense of the word.

Devastation added to his complete incredulity she would touch her angelic lips to his monstrous ones had kept him from having any clear ideas what he should do, so he had done nothing but shed tears as misery had engulfed him. What sort of man cried piteously when the woman he loves kisses him as he has dreamed for nearly a year?

Angry with himself for his defeatist attitude he stalked back to Tamara's mirror. A mere minute or two after he returned to his vigil she entered her room. She looked no happier with her day than he did. She perked up when she saw the two flower arrangements. Damned if she did not go to de Chagny's weeds first. The man sat on a fortune and the best he could do had been to send a vase of cheap mixed flowers. That damn solicitor had done no better. How original to send dozens of red roses. Overkill Erik thought as he eyed the red blooms critically.

He thought his own red roses tied with a black ribbon had been a romantic gesture. More so as Erik sent them even when roses were not in season. Many would have seen his offerings to Christine as romantic. For him it had been a symbol of his love for her as well as his appreciation of her talent. Not wanting her to get too far into thinking how wonderful Raoul or this other man had been to send her something when he had not Erik entered the room shortly after the mirror panel had swished to the side. With her back to him Tamara could not see him. He did not want the evening to begin by him frightening her so he reached back and tapped on the glass of the mirror. This startled her but he suspected not as much as if he had spoken or touched her.

Tamara whirled around surprised to see Erik standing before her. An Erik she could see as plainly as anything else in her room. No shadows hid any detail from her eyes. This had not been Erik's plan at all. Anger had made him careless about the lighting. Nothing could be done about it now. The damage had already been done. Not by so much as a flicker of an eyelid did she betray any horror or fright to see him standing in her room with no one to come to her aid should he intend to harm her. She could scream even now as he made no move to deter such an action.

Several emotions were warring within Tamara at the moment. Pleasure she had to say held a prominent position. Irritation would have been at the top of the list moments ago but that had been before Erik paid her this visit soothing her pride a little. Wanting to take in as much of him as she could without seeming to stare Tamara cast him several looks in-between feigning interest in the flower petals she now twisted cruelly between her fingers. Normally she would have lovingly touched the petals. At the moment her focus turned more toward the man before her than some meager offering from one man she did not know and another she wished she did not know at all.

Sensing she had no intention to scream, call out for aid or set upon him in a violent manner, Erik deemed it safe to ask for her company. "Mademoiselle Tamara, would you honor me with your presence this evening? I have prepared a meal with the hope that you would be agreeable to share my repast."

Despite having been only moments ago thinking him a rude and very crude man with no idea of what being a gentleman entails, now, at this moment all she could see before her was an attractive man. He looked as any gentleman caller might look, well turned out with an added air of mystery about him.

Listening to his voice gave her insides a feeling of warm honey traveling through her veins rather than life sustaining blood. He pulled at her inner woman in a way no one ever had. If this same effect had befallen Christine it puzzled Tamara how she could have withstood his powerful attraction for so long. Perhaps the younger girl hadn't wanted to admit to her attraction. Maybe continuing to believe him an angel had kept her from facing just how seductive her angel really had been. Christine would have been of an age when men were just becoming mysteries she would wish to solve. She may have felt guilt for having such feelings about a man she had thought of as a deity sent to her by her dead father. Such sinful ideas would have been seen as wrong to the young woman. When the Vicomte had come back into her life she likely had grabbed onto him like a lifeline.

Tamara did not really feel any fear of Erik, at least not anymore, not in any violent way that is. Fear of losing her senses around this man, now that would be another matter. For so long Tamara had lived a cloistered life she had not been prepared to rejoin society. Nothing she had done before had prepared her in any way for a man like Erik.

"I…what…where will we be having this dinner?" She felt it a fair question. He would for obvious reasons not go into a café or restaurant to share a meal. The opera house dining room would be out of the question as too many people would be going in and out throughout the evening.

"If you would oblige me, Mademoiselle Tamara I shall take you to my home. As I stated I have the meal prepared."

She felt her face flush as he pointed out he had indeed told her he had prepared the meal. She had been so intent upon gawking at him she had not taken in all he had said. Did he mean to take her down to his home? A place where few had ever been and lived to tell about what they had seen?

Fear should be her main emotion but unlikely as it seemed she only felt excitement. Oh if only her grandmother had come to her room they might both share in this experience. She knew how badly her grandmother wished to go below and so far Tamara had been able to persuade her it would be far too dangerous to venture down into the unknown alone. Knowing her grandmother would mistake that as permission to hire someone to explore then make the trek into the underground anyway, Tamara had made the stipulation no one would be making any trips below without consent from Tamara herself. Needless to say Lillian had been in a huff for days complaining of being treated like a recalcitrant child. In the end she had given her solemn word not to do anything without consulting Tamara first.

"Well since you have gone to the trouble to prepare the meal it would be rude to decline your gracious invitation. And please, call me Tamara. Mademoiselle sounds so formal. I think we may dispense with formality as I hope we will become closer…uh that is to say, closer in a business sense."

Erik had not taken her words to mean anything other than that she would view him in the light of a colleague. He had expected no less. Tonight he hoped to change her mind. If he had his way she would no longer see him as anything other than a man interested in her as a woman. Holding his hand out to offer his guidance, Erik waited for her to place her hand trustingly into his own. Once the mirror closed she would be under his complete power to do with as he chose. No one would hear her scream for help or know where to find her.

Never again would anyone come into his home without express permission from him. After a certain point, it would be to the intruders peril to venture further without knowing exactly where to step and which tunnels to take. Raoul and the mob finding his home had at least pointed out the errors in his security system. Now it would be a deadly blockade between him and the world, one more treacherous than before. Let the Vicomte come now to try and get him.

Once Erik had Tamara's hand within his own he could not stave off the urge to have her close to him. As his excuse to hold her closer he told her rats were known to inhabit much of the opera house especially the darker lower levels. Shamefully he used his ability as a ventriloquist to mime the sound of a rat rustling along the wall. For an added incentive to bring her closer he tossed out a loud squeak.

Immediately she stepped closer to him. She burrowed into his side as if to work her way inside his jacket. He wound his arm around her waist sure she would voice no objections. There were indeed rats in the tunnels but they were more apt to avoid confrontations with humans. He did not see the need to inform her of this as it had been his plan for her to place her trust in him.

Tamara's fear of the unseen beady eyed creatures Erik had referred to soon lost their ability to hold her attention. With her nose buried in his chest her sense of smell had been overtaken by his manly essence. One would think he would smell slightly musty but he did not. He smelled…well he smelled wonderful.

She could not feel his muscles moving through the thickness of the cloth encasing his tall frame but she could imagine every ripple as she walked in step with his steps. Darkness usually unsettled her but with his strong presence so close beside her she felt safe. This situation should have her haring off in the other direction knowing about his past. Contrarily that inclination did not come to her. The only reaction from her had been her steps bringing her closer to him.

Logically she knew she should distrust him. All she knew of him would lead one to believe he had nothing worthy of her trust. Her grandmother saw him as some poor misunderstood love struck man only wanting what other men had. One part of her mind knew of his treachery and felt appalled by his actions while somewhere deep inside he had touched a cord in her she had not known existed.

For whatever reason he held some power over her, one she did not feel obliged to ignore or break. Something exciting was about to begin in her life and she wished for it to go wherever it would damning the consequences. For once she would live in the moment and not worry about the wrong or right of something. Being proper and correct had gained her nothing but looking in from the outside at every event. Erik made her feel as if she were the center of some secret rendezvous with magical propensities. Nothing about him or his life seemed ordinary. Would an association with him not be extraordinary?

Eventually they came to the end of what had been numerous tunnels to the shore of the mythical lake everyone had said flowed underneath the many layers of the opera house and tunnels beneath. If Erik had not left several torches lit along the way of the lake walls all of this would have been plunged into darkness.

A little gondola swayed gently back and forth from the current of water slowly drifting by on its way out to the Seine. Tamara had been one of the skeptical people who had not believed there could be a lake underground of such proportions as it had been stated in the papers. Surely someone would have discovered it long before Erik's reign of terror.

Making sure he placed Tamara just so Erik stepped into the rocking boat. He had gotten used to the swaying in his younger days. Now he felt as surefooted on water as he did on land. He hoped Tamara did not react adversely to water travel. Christine had been too mesmerized by everything to even think of any illness she might have felt otherwise.

Erik jumped to the shore in front of his home first then turned back to extend a helping hand to Tamara. Her face held a look he had only seen coming from Christine before he had caused her to fear him. Not quite adoration but closer to awe. This boded well for the evening. Grasping his hand she pushed herself to her feet. Stumbling forward she hit him in the chest pushing him back a couple of steps. Neither appeared to be in any hurry to separate.

Coming to his senses Erik stepped away from the tantalizing lips within easy reach of his own. He would not ruin the evening by pressing his advantage too early. A kiss now may be regretted within a few minutes when their libidos had time to cool. Those sorts of exchanges would do well to wait until he took her back to her room.

Erik had been very busy preparing for this night. When Tamara stepped on shore it amazed her to find the front of what looked like a house one might find on any street of Paris or London. Casting a look over her shoulder Tamara caught Erik looking not at his home but directly at her. The gleam in his eyes made her think of a fox in a hen house contemplating its next meal. As she continued to eye him she could not help but be aware that Erik ran his eyes up and down her form. Blushing hotly she tried to work up a good bout of anger but all that came was a small amount of irritation warring with womanly pride.

During the evening Tamara could not help but be impressed by all that Erik had accomplished. If she did not know for a fact that they were some five cellars down then another few layers of winding tunnels she would swear she sat at a table in a dining room above ground. His home also had a living area where many shelves of books aligned the wall. A cheery fire burned in the fireplace. When he had shown her the bathroom where she could freshen up it had come as a surprise to find both cold and hot water running in the sink with the turning of a tap just like in any other home. Everything about Erik's home spoke of elegance as well as wealth. He had spared no expense when reconstructing his home. He had shown her the rooms that had not been completed when she had shown interest in seeing them.

She could not help but wonder what Mademoiselle Daaé would think of his home now. If it had been magical before now it could be considered truly magnificent. Cattily Tamara could not help but take pride in the fact that she had been the only one to see Erik's new home. Of all the people he could have brought down here it had been to her he had come first.

As they ate the wonderful meal Erik had prepared they discussed his home further as well as what compositions he had been working on. Nothing had been said about any business matters between them. Neither seemed to want to put an end to an evening that had been if not overly romantic thus far, it at least had been pleasant with stimulating conversation. When they had sat down to eat and Tamara had looked from her plate to Erik sitting at the other end of the table she had not said a word but stood and picked up her plate to join him at the other end.

Since his plan to stay in the shadows had flown out the window so to speak he saw no reason he should deny himself inhaling her sultry essence as they ate and conversed. With each inhalation his manhood throbbed with want. If not for his better than average intelect his part of the conversation would have been giberish what with his body and mind warring for supremecy.

Tamara grew nervous as the evening's end grew closer. What would he expect from her? Why in heaven's name did she even contemplate whether or not to refuse his attempt to kiss her? Lord above here she contemplated a refusal when he had made no indication any attempt would be made to kiss her.

What if he did? What if he didn't?

**A/N: Kind of a sad time for me. My writing keeps me sane. My sister's biopsy has come back and she has stage 3 cancer in her lymph nodes. They had hoped they got it all during the surgery but it had already spread. I think I will forgo Christmas with my family this year to be with her as her own son seems to have abandoned her. Please pray for her and me. I am doing better on the insulin but still haven't gotten it regulated to where it should be. I hope I am wrong but I feel this will be her last Christmas.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

**Sparks in the Night **

Erik had at first refused her offer to help clear up after the meal. When she would not hear of leaving the mess for him to clear away after he had prepared everything he had relented. They worked in unison clearing away. Neither one got in the way of the other as they passed back and forth to the kitchen. Synchronicity came surprisingly easy for the two of them. Tamara washed and Erik dried. The only uncomfortable moment came when she asked for soap to add to the sink full of water. Erik came up behind her to reach on the shelf above the sink. Of necessity his body came into contact with hers. For him it may have been a simple matter of reaching for the box of soap but for Tamara it meant having him breathtakingly close to her. Having him pressed so tightly against her fogged her thought processes.

Erik had not planned this close encounter but it could not have worked out better if he had. A dalliance in the kitchen had not been a part of his plan. Not being adverse to taking advantage of what fate offered he pressed his advantage. Setting the now almost forgotten soap aside, Erik slowly slid his hand across Tamara's stomach. He felt her breath stop momentarily then the quick rise and fall of her chest. She stood with her hands suspended above the water in the sink as if she had forgotten what they were supposed to do.

When he felt her hand come to rest atop his own he felt certain she would tear away his offending hand. She did not. He felt a gentle pressure on his hand then her head came to rest on his chest. Her head tilted to the side presented a tempting invitation he could not resist. He did not even try. Bending his head down Erik placed his lips tentatively on her fragrant neck. No protests were forthcoming so he ventured further. His tongue tasted her smooth skin as he suckled her neck. Realization that he marked her did not even enter his mind. The little spot of bruising evidence would be known for what it was by anyone of experience in such matters. Later he would see the place his lips had been and view the mark with pride. He hoped all would see his work and know Tamara had been with a man. If he could emblazon his name on her neck without hurting her he would.

Before he could go too far Erik released her from his seductive power. She slumped forward to lean against the sink as if he had taken her strength when they separated. Not wanting to discuss what he had done Erik poured soap into the sink then swished his hand about to raise bubbles.

Tamara set about washing the dishes in silence. Automatically she washed dish after dish while her mind relived that kiss. It still felt as if his lips nuzzled at that particular spot. Having her under his spell so completely she had to wonder why he did not take advantage of the fact she had been helpless to deny him anything at that moment. One little kiss on her neck and she had been ready to lay at his feet in surrender. For him it must not have meant as much as he had easily gone from kissing her senseless to helping wash some damn dishes.

This had to stop. Her resistance to him grew weaker with every meeting. What would have happened if he had not kept his senses she dared not question too strongly. Her best option would be to pretend that intimate exchange had meant as little to her as it appeared to mean to him.

Placing the last dish in the cupboard Erik tossed the towel on the counter. He waited to see what Tamara would do. If he had his way they would retire to the settee then continue with a few more kisses. He wouldn't take them too far but he would not object to exploring more of Tamara with his hands and lips. Perhaps that was wishful thinking on his part.

When she did not move or speak but continued to look at his feet Erik felt frustration rising quickly. What about his boots held such fascination for her? Before he could tell his body to stop he had narrowed the distance between them to a mere hair's distance. Roughly he took her shoulders in his hands then lowered his head when she looked up gasping in surprise. That could not have worked better if he had planned it out carefully. His tongue darted into her mouth leaving her no time to protest if that had been her intention.

He could not be sure who groaned first or the loudest. It didn't matter when he felt her arms going around his neck so tightly she had to tiptoe to reach him. Feeling the muscles in his back beginning to protest the angle Erik lifted her off her feet. That must have met with her approval as he felt certain he heard her exclaim "Oh, yes!"

Whatever fond memories he held of Christine's kisses they did not compare to the wild abandon they were both experiencing. Time and time again he left her lips to explore her neck and face. She would tolerate this for a time then pull him back to her mouth where she eagerly thrust her tongue into his mouth. Control slipped steadily away with every second that passed in this heated exchange. Erik felt himself drowning in sensation. His whole body pulsed with the fast, seductive beat of his heart. If he could not reign himself in soon there would be no stopping.

Tamara had been lost at the first touch of his mouth on her own. Never having kissed anyone, let alone with such abandoned passion, she felt as if she had no bones or muscles. Everything had liquefied into an unbearable heat. Everywhere on her body burned. Wherever Erik touched the blaze burned higher.

Good heavens had this compelling need to touch and be touched been what she had missed all these years? That brief coherent question had been her last attempt at sanity. After that nothing mattered other than Erik continue to hold her tightly aligned to his firm frame as he explored her mouth and tantalized her tongue with strokes from his own tongue.

Setting Tamara down gently although-be-it reluctantly, Erik removed himself away from her out of temptation's reach. If she said one word or looked at him he would have her back in his arms so fast they both would have no knowledge they had moved. Knowing she would willingly come to him had been his initial intent. Now he wanted more. At this juncture in their relationship she might come to him now but within a short time regrets would set in. Tamara he knew to be the sort of woman who needed to at least believe she cared for the man she brought to her bed.

He could live with her not loving him but he could not live with her coming to him then regretting it. Time, he needed more time. To get all he wanted he must give her time to develop some sort of feelings for him other than mere lust. Lust did not last longer than it took to couple. Love could last forever if properly nurtured. If Christine had returned his love he would have loved her and been faithful to her until the day he died. That sort of devotion Erik discounted as a possibility for him. He must make do with what he could have. If it would only be lust then he would at least give Tamara a chance to care for him so that after their first time she would come to him again and again. One time of intimacy with a woman would never fill the great emptiness inside of him.

Her confusion he could easily read on her upturned face. Her parted lips were an invitation he must withstand if he wanted to achieve his goal. Without knowing he did it Erik raised his finger to trace over her wet kiss swollen lips. Temptation warred with good sense when she closed her eyes at his touch. Her head remained tilted upward as if to offer him her lips once more. Rather than give in to what his lustful inner mind whispered for him to do, Erik continued to run only his index finger over her features. Tracing one brow then the other he moved down along her jaw line. She shivered when his finger ran down along her slender neck. He saw the movement in her throat when she swallowed. Bringing his finger back up he traced along her ear then gently rubbed her earlobe between his fingers.

Tamara had never felt anything so seductive. He had her at fever pitch only with a simple touch. If this had been his way to calm her, she should tell him he had failed miserably. The heat in those newly discovered womanly parts pulsed with unsatisfied need. More than anything she wanted him to kiss her again. Luckily she had not completely lost her mind or she would be bringing his head down to her level for a kiss that would curl both of their toes. Nothing about this man should have her ready to push all common sense aside just to feel his kiss. If anything she should be slapping his face demanding he take her back to her room. Once there she should go directly to the nearest garrison and turn him in. What was the matter with her? He was a criminal in love with a woman he could not have. Had it been his plan to use her in the place of Christine?

That thought if nothing else brought Tamara down from her sensual cloud. Opening her eyes she could tell he had not taken notice of her coming out of her stupor. His eyes followed his still questing finger. When it traveled to the dip between her breasts Tamara felt this would be the perfect time to make a protest. A little late but better that than have him believe he could do as he liked with her.

Erik had felt her stiffen when his finger came too close to a prize he dearly wished to see. He could try to lull her into compliance again but it would not be worth the risk of ruining what had gone before if she became angered by his persistence. Her look now clearly stated he had best keep his hands and lips to himself. One day he would break through her wall knocking it completely to the ground. On that day he would claim her as his own if only for a time. He would not let himself hope she would stay with him. Letting him this close to her, kissing her, caressing her, all that had been enough for now, he would demand much more of her later.

Backing away from Tamara, Erik let her collect herself without his nearness to distract her. The bal masque would be upon them soon. He had a costume to make, plans to form concerning how he would approach Christine and what he would say to her. He also had to make sure everything would be ready in his home for he would be bringing Tamara down the night of the ball. No matter what happened between him and Christine he would bring Tamara down to spend the night with him. If she turned him down he may just kill himself. This would be his last effort to win a woman. If he failed this time he did not know if his ego could take another battering.

Of course if Christine confessed that the Vicomte had been cruel to her or she found herself out of love with him things would take a different turn. Christine would be the woman he brought down with him. If that happened he would set off the small charges he had strategically placed which would bring down selected parts of different tunnels. This would close off every entrance to his home. The only way out would be the same way Christine and Raoul had left, the canal that led to the Rue Scribbe side of the opera house.

Erik hastened Tamara along on the return trip once the boat had docked at the bottom of the stairs. When she kept tripping without thought he scooped her up into his arms. It would be much quicker if he carried her. The bottoms of her shoes had grown slick from the moisture and her foot slid along the stone floor.

The weight of her as well as her softness against him brought memories of Christine strongly to his mind. Whether he wanted to think of her or not his mind would not let him block out those recollections of how Christine had felt when he held her in his arms. Emotions he had tried to drive out burned in his mind bringing with them pain he had hoped never to feel again. Just when he made some progress to move on Christine's ghost came to haunt him. Why could he not forget her? Would she never leave him? He would never have peace as long as she held his heart still in her hands.

Pathetic as it may be, he still loved Christine, or at least the ideal of her. Until he could face her and came to grips with whatever residual emotions he had for her there would always be times when he suffered from her memory. Placing her into a category of things best remembered with fondness instead of gut wrenching lust and love would be his only salvation.

Once he had reached Tamara's mirror Erik set her on her feet. Even with a part of his mind preoccupied with Christine Erik still wanted to end this evening on a happy note. He did not want Tamara to think his only intention had been to steal a few kisses with little regard for her personally.

Touching the little switch that opened the mirror Tamara's attention turned to the opening into her room. This was tantamount to a man leaving a lady at her doorstep. Nervously she wondered if he would kiss her while she argued with herself why she felt anxious that he wouldn't. Seemly or not she desperately wanted his lips pressed to hers again contradicting what she had earlier decided to do at this moment.

Grasping her upper arms Erik pulled her to him. When she rested against him she raised her hands to place them on his chest. Bending down he placed what he intended to be just a soft quick meeting of the lips. Tamara had other ideas. Her lips parted slightly in invitation, one Erik could not ignore. He deepened the kiss until both of them found it hard to breathe. Now he really must leave her or do something regrettable. As much as she seemed to want him it was too soon to press his advantage. He must wait until he had further proof of an emotional attachment.

With a quick goodnight Erik gently guided her through the opening closing the mirror before Tamara had regained her wits enough to wish him a goodnight in return. She only regained her senses once the mirror had closed cutting him off from her sight.

Going through the motions of readying for bed Tamara tried to analyze everything that had happened from their first meeting. It made no sense that she should be so enamored of him so quickly. If he were anyone other than the Opera Ghost she would welcome these new emotions. Knowing he still felt something for that Daaé woman, Tamara began to wonder just what his game was with her. Still having an attachment to this other woman would almost assuredly preclude him from having anything other than lust in his heart for her. Could she be happy with that sort of arrangement?

No, she could not. Never would she give herself without love. Whatever this was that she felt she must fight it with diligence. Having saved herself all these years she would not now hand over that which everyone considered the prize all women are born possessing. Not many men would marry a woman everyone believed to be used goods. Taking a silent vow of chastity Tamara fell asleep to dream of a man luring her with his touch. His whisper in her ear seduced her into acquiescence. What his hands could do to her tender flesh no one would speak of outside of the bedroom. Every place his lips touched he left a molten trail behind. Tamara awoke sweating feeling as if she had come through an inferno. Remembering her vivid dreams she thought she might have indeed been set aflame.

**A/N: I appreciate all your prayers and well wishes. So far my sister is still too weak to get the radiation she needs. The cancer is one of thworst kind and fastest spreading so I am of the opinion the doctors aren't in any hurry to begin treatment as the prognosis isn't great. They are trying to maintain her pain and keep the nausea at bay so she can eat and have pain free moments. So far nothing is working on either problem. All we can do is pray for a few painless days she can enjoy at this special time of year. God does work miracles sometimes or maybe it is our belief that is the miracle.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

**What Dreams are Made Of **

The opera house had become a busy beehive. Everyone had set tasks to accomplish so that the ball would be a success. Antoinette and Lillian had been putting their heads together like thieves planning the next heist. Antoinette did not want Christine's return to bring about some awful occurrence. To that end she had gone along with Lillian's plan to try to get Erik and Tamara together. Erik had shown he did find Tamara attractive. From what Lillian had told her Erik had expressed an interest in her granddaughter.

Everything all of a sudden had gotten so complicated. Lillian had taken Tamara to the dressmaker wanting something extra special for her costume. The day they had gone Tamara came back with her face red as a beet and her arms crossed across her chest. For hours she avoided everyone especially the men. Usually Tamara could hold her own with the male members of the opera house. Lillian would only tell her that Tamara and she had a disagreement about the costume Lillian had chosen. Reluctantly Tamara had given in with ill-grace. No amount of wheedling could pry what sort of costume Lillian had chosen for Tamara. Tamara herself only would say she hoped she did not get arrested or branded as a woman of loose morals.

Antoinette could not imagine what would cause Tamara such upset. During balls everyone let their hair down. Lines between the classes were crossed. Propriety went out the window. Through the years she and Erik had kept an eye on Christine and Meg not wanting either of them to lose sight of what was good for them. Naturally Erik had kept an eye on Christine. Who knows who he would be watching this year? He had been avoiding her for reasons of his own. Likely he had some plan in the works and did not want her interference. All the notes she left in his box had been left lying on his seat. One good thing to come out of all of this, Erik had not pulled any pranks in over a week. Antoinette did not know if the silence and peace meant something good or something disastrous would befall them during the night of the bal masque.

Tamara had received word that the Vicomtess and Vicomte de Chagny would be visiting the opera house at four o'clock on the 5th of June. When it arrived her grandmother had nearly had a fit from all the excitement this announcement brought about. Tamara felt she might have need to call for the doctor. To add to the stress Rutherford Taylor had arrived in Paris along with her assistant and his fiancée. David had sent word of his arrival a few days ago. So far his fiancée had wanted to see the sights before entering the great house of opera. Rutherford as sort of a tagalong could not be rude and visit Tamara until his hosts were ready to seek out Tamara and her grandmother unless they gave him leave to do so.

What in the world that man Rutherford Taylor thought they had in common she had no earthly idea. She had only spoken to him about her grandmother's holdings. Perhaps it had something to do with her request to see all the financial papers concerning her grandmother's inheritance. If he had any romantic notions she'd be quick to disabuse him of any such hope just as she had in the past.

At the time she had asked to see the documents concerning her grandmother's finances she had put his over the top objection down to being surprised by her request. Later all this opera business had taken over her mind along with a certain man she refused to spend one second longer thinking about. He had not the courtesy to send her a word or even come personally to say one word about enjoying her company. For all she knew upon sleeping on what had transpired he may have had second thoughts about pursuing her, not that she cared one bit for had she not made a firm decision to keep him at arms length? Still the wretched man could have said something, anything would be better than total silence. Well if he could be all nonchalant so could she. She would think of him as no more than a ripple upon the pond. Once the little ripples spread outward nothing of them remained to disturb the smooth surface again.

David had sent word his fiancée did not care for the sort of entertainment that would be the height of the evening during the ball. Coming from a rather staid background she tended to be judgmental. He on the other hand would enjoy coming and looked forward to seeing her and her grandmother again.

Asking Meg to attend the party with David as his escort had gone well. Meg had been eager to help. Both she and her mother had already picked up their costumes. Thinking of costumes had her mind centering on her own costume. Really all that could be said for it was the material had been very expensive for the little bit of it the dressmaker had used. Where her grandmother had gotten the idea for the costume Tamara could not imagine unless she had gone through some of the old operas and picked out a character. She still did not know if she would have the courage to leave her room in the costume let alone parade around for all to see and see her they would.

She had told her grandmother what little there was to her costume would be labeled scandalous and she would be known as a harlot. Naturally her grandmother had scoffed at her. Nothing would scandalize her grandmother. She took most things in stride. More to the point her grandmother lived to uncover scandal. To her everyone else lead much more exciting lives. The legendary Opera Ghost and Phantom would have been too tempting for her to pass up the opportunity to explore the facts and fiction of the tale. If Tamara felt herself to be under Erik's spell she had a feeling her grandmother had lost all sense of proper thinking on the matter. Every day their conversations consistently led back to Erik and what he could be doing, would he come to the ball, what would his costume be, had there been any progress toward getting his consent to work for them?

When the talk turned to the matter of Erik's employment Tamara skillfully led the conversation into other topics. To her shame not once had she made any real effort to gain Erik's concession to come work for them formally. Her grandmother had skilled tactics of her own and would soon have the tables turned back toward the topic of Erik. Soon, of necessity, Tamara avoided her curious grandmother as much as possible.

Rutherford had sent an invitation for her to join him for lunch. Acceptance on her part had been more an act of defiance as her darned mind would not obey her command to stop all thoughts of Erik. In dreams he came all too often. She did not need him filling her day as well, not when she had come to the conclusion she should keep him as far away from her as possible while still trying to win his consent to being employed by the opera house.

How her life had gotten out of control in such a short time she could not say. Well yes, she could. It had been the instant her grandmother had set her mind on buying a haunted opera house, one that had more real drama off stage than on, stories of love, passion and betrayal. At that instant some unseen force had been guiding them to this very building where a ghost and phantom had ruled supreme. Even when he had proven himself a mere mortal, everyone still thought him an ephemeral being.

Lillian had been surprised and not at all pleased to learn Rutherford had gone and invited Tamara to share an outing with him. If they were seen in company soon it would be all over Paris that they were a couple. That would not fit into Lillian's plans at all, nor did she think Erik would care for Tamara and Rutherford sharing anything more than polite conversation in the company of her friends and family, certainly not alone conversing over the afternoon meal and a bottle of wine.

Going to Tamara's room she tried her best to disparage every outfit Tamara chose to wear. At last Tamara had enough nay saying and chose an altogether too perfect spring dress. Pink should not look so well on a woman with red hair. Tamara looked a vision of loveliness when she stepped out from behind the dressing screen. Lillian supposed Erik had been peeping and Tamara had found out which was why she dressed behind the screen or perhaps she simply had cut him off at the knees before he could do such a thing. Lillian did not use her own dressing screen. In her estimation she did not think an old woman would hold any appeal to a man of Erik's youth and virility. One could live in hope but she did not really think she had any need to worry.

Tagging along with Tamara to the lobby Lillian tried to come up with a way to ingratiate herself into their lunch date but could not now claim it would be improper when already Tamara had been alone with Erik twice. He posed more threat to Tamara's chastity than the weak man she thought Rutherford to be. When the door opened Lillian panicked. What if Erik should be looking and saw them leaving together? What would he do to Tamara and Rutherford? Erik may not feel any love as of yet for her granddaughter but given his past he would not take kindly to another man stepping out with a woman he had set his sights on.

Rutherford had planned this meeting with Tamara carefully. He had purposely waited until David and Lauren had expressed an urge to take a buggy ride in the countryside and picnic on the way. Claiming a headache just when they would be leaving had gotten him out of accompanying the all too boring couple. If he did not need Tamara to sign off on her grandmother's papers he would have gladly stayed in London spending Lillian's money in the guise of supporting the needy. Rutherford had been hiring people in need of money to spin tales of woe. Lillian had always been a sucker for the downtrodden.

Over the last few years a small fortune had been handed over to supposedly poor but worthy individuals. Most of those who received cash had been on Rutherford's payroll. He gave them a small reward for the use of their name and circumstance. If they knew just how much money had been offered one of those individuals would have likely done him some bodily harm.

Everything had gone swimmingly until Miss nosy Parker Tamara Stern had come along to tip the applecart. He knew when he sent her the quarterly reports he should have excluded the purchase of that damn opera house. To the best of his recollection everyone claimed it had been haunted and quite possibly still could be.

It galled him that he must lower himself to put on this charade of trying to win Miss Stern. Having grown up among islanders then gadding about the globe with her grandmother anyone could be excused for thinking of her as not fit for matrimony with any man of good family. His own family had been among the elite for at least five generations. Ancestors on his family tree had sat at the right hand of rulers all across several continents. These Nuevo rich families clawed their way from the gutters. Many still retained the manners of a street urchin.

His own father had been a less discerning man. To him everyone should have equality. For years he had even gone so far as to spout off about women gaining the right to vote. Many times Rutherford had found himself the butt of some joke due to his father's ideals, ideals which he did not share.

His father's death had been Rutherford's escape from the shadow of his father. Upon his father's death he had felt finally free to express his true beliefs without fear of being disinherited. How well he remembered his anger upon learning his family would soon be what amounted to paupers. That had been when his plan had been plotted to use that old bags funds to line his own pocket. He felt he qualified as a person in need. Did his rank by birth negate the emptiness of his coffers?

Again he cursed mightily against Tamara for ruining what had been a perfect plan. Why must she bother about past expenditures? That money had been long gone, whether by some hapless beggar or by his own overextended credit repayment. Debtors were threatening to send him to debtor's prison if he did not make restitution.

He had rationalized taking the money by using the fact that Lillian had planned to hand over the money to someone, why not him? She had no need to know of his perfidy and she would have lived out the remainder of her life unaware had not her granddaughter on a whim asked to see the ledgers. Amounts out did not match up with the receipts he sent quarterly to Lillian in the belief that she would never have cause to question him about any of his handling of her accounts.

Diligently he had seen to it that all her personal billings were kept up to date. Lord knows if the debtors had come a knocking, Miss Stern would have wanted every farthing accounted for. Because of her actions whatever befell Miss Stern in his estimation would be on her own head. Curiosity it has been said killed the cat. He hoped things would not have to go to that final step.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

**Snake Among Us**

Facing Rutherford did give Tamara a feeling of someone walking over her grave. He had not given her the impression of an oily medicine barker at a fair when she met him in London. Why now did he seem slightly shadier than before? Perhaps it had been his overly familiar greeting or his slightly brusque attitude to her grandmother. He need not have been so obvious about not wanting her to join them.

In his London office he had been all cordial and anxious to please. It had only been when she asked for his records of her grandmother's accounts that he had let his façade slip for a few seconds. Quickly his demeanor had returned to being cooperative. Now Tamara could see that perhaps things had not been all they had seemed to be.

During lunch Rutherford drew out some papers from a satchel he had brought with him. When they had exited the cab Tamara had been surprised and curious what he had brought with him and why he thought it necessary to bring it to their lunch. She had not long to wait to find out his motive in carrying papers concerning her grandmother with him.

He presented her with a stack of papers requesting her signature. After Lillian had bought the opera house Tamara had requested to be placed in control of the finances and Lillian had no objections as Tamara had proven how skilled she could be making a small amount of money grow into a larger amount. Handing over control to her granddaughter instead of her lawyer had pleased the older woman to know Tamara would be taking care of things.

If her granddaughter must keep tabs on her spending, that would mean they would of necessity see one another more often, not that Tamara did not make an effort to spend time with Lillian. Business kept her granddaughter from socializing. Lillian had thought she might at some point be able to use her granddaughter's concerns about her financial situation to further her plan to find Tamara a husband. Just how that would come about Lillian had not gone that far into planning until coming to France.

One could look at Lillian's purchase of the opera house as an attempt to bring her granddaughter out of the office into the real world. Whether or not it had been intentional it had the end result's Lillian wanted.

Whenever Tamara made an attempt to have a closer look at the papers Rutherford would say something that forced her attention away from those papers. Tamara's resolve not to sign until she knew exactly what they contained irritated Rutherford which brought out Tamara's watchful side even more. Never would she have signed anything without knowing for herself what she signed. Just because Rutherford had taken over his father's law office did not make him a trustworthy person as his father had been.

The meal had ended on a bad note when Tamara forthrightly stated she would read over the papers then get back to him. Slamming his glass of wine on the table Rutherford had stormed off after declaring how insulted he felt that she questioned his integrity. He told her they would discuss this again when she had time to come to her senses and apologize to him for casting doubts about his character. Tamara did not miss the fact that Rutherford had not been so upset that he left behind the papers.

Tamara had to say his attitude raised more warning bells than his assumption she would willingly sign papers concerning her grandmother's affairs without knowing exactly what she signed. Knowing this would need to be dealt with at some point she thought it could wait until the pressure of the ball had passed.

Christine and Raoul were due to arrive the next day. Meg and Antoinette were anxious to see them as they should be. Not knowing why Tamara would have rather forgo meeting the couple. With them in the opera house things could get more interesting than anyone would like. Who knew how Erik would react. It was a given that he would make an appearance. Whether or not he would make himself known to anyone other than Christine they could only speculate on what would occur. Tamara briefly wondered if she could lure Erik away on some pretext. In the end she nothing short of tying him up and forcing him to leave would curtail any meeting he might wish to have with Christine.

The four women waited in the lobby for the couple to arrive. Arrangements for their arrival had been tediously planned. Not wanting Erik to interfere Tamara had made reservations at a nearby restaurant to entertain their quests. It would have been more convenient to stay within the opera house walls as last minute problems continuously cropped up concerning the ball but she dare not risk Erik causing trouble so soon.

When Tamara got her first look at Christine she could understand Erik's falling under her spell. As much as she would have preferred to think of Christine as some little Jezebel who had tempted a love struck older man, Tamara soon learned that Christine had an innocence about her that could not be faked. Instead of an unsure young woman thrust into the noble classes unprepared, Christine proved to be gracious as well as self possessed.

Only for a moment upon entering the lobby had either Christine or Raoul shown signs of uneasiness. Raoul had not wanted to come anywhere near the opera house until of necessity he must do so to attend the ball. Only Christine's assurance that she would not leave his side had calmed his nerves.

Things could not have worked out better in his estimation when they were told they would not be dining in the opera house. Raoul had covered his relief well smiling courteously as introductions had been made. Antoinette had not exaggerated when she had claimed Mademoiselle Stern to be one of the most striking women she had seen. Raoul had not been partial to red hair but could not help but admire the long fiery red that trailed down Tamara's back.

Many would think it unseemly for a young woman of her age to leave her hair flowing in such an untamed way. He found he rather liked it and regretted it when Christine had stopped letting her own mane of glorious brown locks wave about freely. She now had it pinned up befitting a proper wife of a Vicomte.

During the meal it became apparent to all that although polite, Tamara held some grudge against Christine. She did nothing outright impolite but did nothing to warm to her either. Lillian and Antoinette shared understanding looks even as they both disagreed about being happy with their conclusion. Antoinette worried what would happen when Erik had two women he had feelings for under one roof.

As hard as Christine tried to get more than a one word response from Mademoiselle Stern, the woman thwarted her efforts at every turn. She knew that not everyone would immediately take to others they met or even every person they came across. No one had ever taken an instant dislike to her other than Carlotta and that had been for obvious reasons.

Meg and her mother were just as they had always been. Madame Palmentar she felt would be a pleasant person to know. She, unlike her granddaughter had shown an interest in getting to know Christine. Raoul had charmed all the ladies as usual. If Christine had not been so certain of his affections she could easily have become jealous.

Tamara felt anger at herself for letting her feelings for Erik color how she felt about Christine. Even having resolved not to have anything further to do with him outside business concerns she had no control over how she reacted to him whenever they were in the same room. Even when the man was not with her physically it had been all too easy to conjure him inside her mind.

With everything that had been happening she had not had time to speak to her grandmother about Rutherford. The upcoming ball had become the focal point for most of their conversations. Everything must be perfect. So much depended on the success of the ball and the upcoming performance. Later it had been the upcoming visit of Raoul and Christine occupying everyone's mind.

When it came time to part Christine made one last effort to win over Mademoiselle Stern. Whatever the lady had against her must have passed for she gave Christine a warm smile just as she and Raoul were departing. Graciously she had even offered a room in the opera house for her and Raoul to use the night of the Bal Masque.

Having a room there would make things easier. It would also afford her of Meg's company during dressing for the evening. It would seem like old times again. Christine could not help the thrill of expectation at the thought her angel might have a way to watch over her as she readied herself for the evening. Might he not even make himself known to her? She could not quell the leap of her heart for the prospect of hearing him or even better yet, seeing him in the flesh.

Tamara had managed in the end to talk herself into showing cordiality toward Christine. After all it had not been her fault for Erik's behavior then or now. Being an adult male he had control over how he acted. If he chose to be a clod then she would treat him accordingly, that is if he ever made himself known to her again. She could not stop the depressing feeling when she contemplated not seeing him again.

Of necessity they would encounter one another whether he came to be employed by the opera house or continued to play the ghost. Either way he would have his hand in opera business. If things continued as they had been going lately Tamara considered returning to London. What kept her here other than her grandmother she was not ready to see just yet.

Erik had been hiding behind the wall when Christine and Raoul had entered the lobby. What had kept him from leaping out to drag Christine back to his home he felt too uncertain to put a name to it. Honestly he could admit to feeling the old urges rising in him just looking at her lovely face.

His ears craved to hear her voice once more. When Tamara announced they would be leaving the opera house he had silently cursed her for depriving him of Christine's presense. He could only conclude she had done it purposely to deny him even that limited access to Christine. Later he would take Mademoiselle Stern to task or her impertinence to dare interfere with his plan to see Christine and perhaps steel a moment with her.

The ball would soon be upon them. Erik went from wanting Christine to know him during the evening and wanting to remain a mystery so he could spend more time with her as a normal man would. Holding her in his arms during a dance would definitely be something he would seek.

Deliberately he had stayed away from Tamara hoping she might miss his presence. So far she had not seemed to care one way or the other. Her daily routine had not so much as changed by one second. He had been stomping about his home angrily as he denied himself having her close to him, while she cared little as to whether or not he ever spoke to her again.

He had let his arrogance lead him to believe he had more power over her than he actually had. During the ball he would make certain Mademoiselle took notice of him. Finesse would need to be used to juggle the two women he sought to ensnare within his dark embrace.

Planning to test Christine's emotions toward him while trying to romance another woman would be a challenge, one Erik had never foreseen ever becoming a problem in his lifetime. Never had he really believed one woman would fall so completely under his spell that he would have a need to know what happened after that first moment she surrendered to him.

Tamara had shown him that he could lure a woman to his side. Now he needed to learn how to keep her there. He would be playing a dangerous game the night of the ball. Not only did he need to keep his eye on Raoul, but also that man Rutherford Taylor. It had also come to his attention that Tamara had been receiving correspondence from a man named David Carmichael.

That man had not come up in any of the conversations he had listened to or if he had Erik assumed his attention had been concentrated elsewhere. It had not taken Erik long to conclude Monsieur Taylor to be a snake of the most dangerous kind. His outer demeanor did not indicate his inner evil self. He wore the gentlemanly façade well. That man above all the others must be watched carefully. Erik did not know just what his game was as of yet but soon he would know what the man planned. If it turned out to be anything that would harm either Lillian or Tamara the man would have need to hide from the Phantom's wrath.

Despite having told himself he only pursued Tamara for what she could give him physically he had gone and allowed his deeper emotions to become involved. He could not say what he felt resembled love, at least not love as he perceived it, but he knew something had been building between them since the moment he first held her in his arms. To have such feelings again frightened him. The last time he had let himself believe in love he had gone beyond accepted behavior to win his love at all costs. Perhaps what he felt for Christine had more of obsession than love controlling his actions.

Confusion over just what he felt for Tamara clouded his mind to almost everything else. Interest in the upcoming performance had fallen by the wayside. Whether the leads were of an acceptable caliber of talent or not he could not give an honest opinion as to date he had not made it a priority to oversee any rehearsals. At the moment his libido had control of almost all of his actions. To lie with a woman, Tamara to be precise, had become his driving force of late. Sexual tension might have given him an added passion if he had cared to compose. Music at the moment had been set aside while he pursued his greatest desire.

He had been obsessed by Christine, he could see that now, but even during his moments when his insanity had taken hold of him he could still compose and play music. In point of fact his music had been far more intense during that black period. His music had even overshadowed his want for Christine at times.

Did that fact indicate he felt something so profound for Tamara he could not even focus on the music that had been such a part of him? He often thought his soul intertwined with the notes when he played his most passionate pieces.

This ball would be the turning point in his life. Denial of what he wanted would not be accepted or tolerated. Whatever influence he had to bring to the fore to gain what he wanted would not be held back. That night it would be all or nothing.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

**The Bal Masque**

Pandemonium seemed to be the order of the day. Last minute details kept cropping up having been neglected by whomever had been assigned those tasks. Blame could be assigned once the ball had come and gone. Now everyone must concentrate on making certain everything would go smoothly. The opera house was a hive of activity.

Costumes had been arriving for those who had not availed themselves of the costume department's offerings. Tamara holding her very nearly not there costume wished she had taken a leaf out of Antoinette and Meg's book and opted to make use of the opera houses costumes. What she held in her hand now barely qualified as a sheer piece of fabric used for window dressing.

"Grandmother, how can you in good conscience advocate that I parade myself around all evening with next to nothing on?" Shaking the material in front of her grandmother's face for good measure only earned her a frown and chastisment.

"Oh don't be such a prude Tamara. I spoke with Antoinette as to what costumes had been like in the past. Let me tell you I had my eyes opened as to just how far Parisians are willing to go when celebrating. For this one night there will be no lines separating the classes. Dress codes are discarded. With masks on a nobleman looks much as a man of the working class. Some may have a natural regal bearing but only the most discerning will take notice tonight. Costumes are what will be on parade tonight. The more vulgar and outlandish the better according to Antoinette. I think you will have all eyes on you Tamara, my dear," Lillian concluded proudly.

"That is exactly what concerns me. Grandmother have you any idea what this costume will suggest?"

"That you are a beautiful woman?" she asked hopefully.

Giving up Tamara went to put on the miniscule costume. It wasn't that it didn't cover her, it did. The problem with the material stemmed from the fact that it was light weight and very sheer, see through in fact. The seamstress had made a form fitting one piece under costume that covered everything. Hoping that would solve the problem of showing her wares to everyone she had been shocked to find the under piece had only added to the allure of the costume.

When she had put it on at the dressmakers shop shock had been her reaction, delight had been her grandmother's and Madame's reaction. Neither woman found anything remotely offensive that Tamara's body would be outlined perfectly and looked bare underneath the filmy over layer. Being of flesh colored material from a distance Tamara looked nude underneath her costume.

Even close up one would have to come almost within touching distance to see the under piece as it had been made of thin material as well only being slightly more opaque than the outer layer. Women on stage at times wore less than she did now. If she had been a performer maybe this would not seem so improper. Tamara still did not know where her grandmother had gotten the idea for her to play Lady Godiva. At least she could leave her hair unbound so it might add extra cover for her nearly naked body. Altogether the cloth of both layers weighed no more than a handful of feathers.

If they would be spending the night in darkness it wouldn't be so bad. With the material being so light and the brightness of the lighting working its magic, she may as well be naked. Lifting the material up to the light she could see through it even though all the layers were together. Once she inserted her body the shield between her skin and everyone's eyes would be practically nonexistent.

Having gone behind the dressing screen Tamara mumbled the whole time about feeling decadent and indecent. Lillian merely countered that she would be the center of attention. That had been one of the things that concerned her so much. She'd feel like one of those women dancing before some despot for his pleasure.

Tamara stayed behind the screen long after she had the costume in place. Even parading in front of her grandmother felt wrong. How could she face a whole crowd of people for many hours?

Anticipating Tamara's timidity Lillian coaxed her from behind the screen. Waving her hand for Tamara to come join her on the settee, Lillian offered Tamara a glass filled with champagne. Nothing like a bit of bubbly to relax ones inhibitions. Several drinks later Tamara felt very warm and definitely relaxed.

She loosened several buttons down the front of her costume. Not having any undergarments underneath left little to the imagination when fully buttoned, undoing a few buttons removed any doubt the costume had been meant to seduce any male within sight of the person wearing it. If her intention had been to draw every male eye she had succeeded with this tempting almost there, costume.

Feeling a little better even if she did feel slightly woozy Tamara began to feel second and third concerns about just how her grandmother planned her grand entrance. All week she had been trying to talk her grandmother out of what she planned but nothing would move her from her belief that for the costume to be perfect everything must be just so.

One of the stagehands had been entrusted to bring in one of the white mares kept by the opera house to turn the revolving stage as well as make an appearance on stage when required. One now would be making a début with Tamara as Lady Godiva. Tamara followed her grandmother to the grand ballroom just off the lobby. The lobby's magnificent staircase would be a focal point during the evening. The grand chandelier hanging in the center looked like cascading diamonds as it sparkled overhead.

Erik had gotten to the ballroom after a great number of the staff had already gathered around in little groups. It wasn't very hard to enter through one of his hidden panels wandering from group to group trying to blend in. Several concentrated stares from a number of women began to unnerve him. Perhaps it had been foolish to make his costume red. A black matador costume would have been less eye-catching. Erik had so little confidence in his ability to draw any woman's approving eye he mistook their flirtatious fluttering lashes as nervous ticks. He felt a snse of déjà vu. He had entered the ballroom at the top of these very stairs wearing his Red Death costume. Had he made the unconscious choice of red hoping Christine would recognise him?

The tightly fitting cloth showed every muscle in Erik's body. Each movement rippled those muscles underneath the cloth. The black mask across the top of his face, only aloud his lips and very masculine chin to show along with his seductive green eyes. Shyness would keep only the younger untutored women from making a move to garner Erik's attention.

Desperate to remove himself from being the center of attention Erik found a quiet corner deep within the shadows of several palm plants. Seeing as how his costume would resemble a red flag being waved at a bull he had little hope of continuing to avoid anyone looking at him. Sighing heavily he saw Antoinette and Meg enter from the door leading to the back dormitories and rooms of the upper management. Meg looked quite nice dressed as a fairy. Antoinette had only conceded to wearing a mask. Having gone to their rooms earlier in the week he had found what they would be wearing to the ball. He had needed to know how he could recognize them just in case he had to speak to Antoinette. As for his interest in Meg's costume he put it down to nosiness on his part.

Everything had been planned carefully so that he could spend time with Tamara after he had taken Christine aside to speak with her. Depending on how that conversation went would determine whether or not he would be stealing off with Christine or continuing on with his plan to seduce Tamara.

Never having had even one viable option with a woman, arrogance now had him ignoring the fact that Christine had already made her decision. If she had any plan of returning to him she would have done so during one of the many months since they had parted. He failed to see that by even trying to contact Christine he jeopardized what he might have been building with Tamara.

Erik knew the moment Christine walked into the room. Conversation all but stopped. Only a few whispers behind fans of the older women who sat gossiping could be heard. Christine's face took on a pink tinge as every eye in the ballroom zeroed in on her. Raoul by her side placed his hand against her lower back so she could feel his silent support.

Glaring around arrogantly Raoul dared anyone to make any remark within his hearing. Christine had faced so many judgmental people during there first few months together. Everyone seemed to be coming around to accepting her for the gracious woman she truly was. Now all that business with the Phantom would be on everyone's tongue. Speculation would be running rife whether or not the man still lived within the opera house and if he would once again make a bid for Christine's hand.

Just when Raoul and Christine thought they would have to leave another bout of gasping and pointing drew every eye toward the arched entrance coming from the left of the ballroom. A woman sat upon the back of a white horse. So many scandalous things about this could be heard as exclamations were shouted out.

Many were not so much shouts protesting such brazenness but more in support of the clever costume with the added visual aid of the horse. With the glaring light shining down Tamara looked as if she were at first glance totally nude just as that heroine from the past.

Erik's attention went from Christine to this new distraction. He could hardly believe what his eyes saw. This could not be Tamara, the staid, correct, business woman he knew. Edging his way closer he could not doubt what he knew to be true. Angrily his fists clenched. How dare she parade herself around in such a costume? Had it been her intent to drive every male to the point of salivating openly as they ogled her? She had succeeded grandly if that had been her aim.

Even de Chagny stood with his mouth agape. Costumes were by and large outrageous during these balls but Tamara had outdone everyone before her and likely anyone coming after her. What Lillian had been thinking to allow her granddaughter to appear in public looking like a harlot Erik could not fathom but he damn well would make his opinion known once he had taken Tamara from the room.

Several men rushed forward to assist Tamara from the back of her mount. Once her feet hit the floor the court jester holding the reins led the animal back down the long corridor then out the door to put him in his stall for the night. Erik would be finding that court jester later to ask about his part in this fiasco.

Everyone with a hand in this debacle would feel his wrath. First though he must try to get Christine alone. He kept getting distracted by the crowd of excited men surrounding Tamara. He recognized de Chagny, Rutherford and a man who had claimed to be Tamara's assistant this afternoon when the man had picked up his invitation that Tamara had left for him at the front window.

Erik had made it his business to learn what everyone's costume would be. He felt that knowledge gave him power and he wanted to know who he had a need to avoid. It also allowed him to keep track of those who would try to lure Tamara away from him.

By now Erik had stopped thinking clearly. Confusion over everything kept him from knowing just what he should do first. He had thought to get Tamara away then seek out Christine. With de Chagny occupied with Tamara this would be a perfect opportunity for him to grab Christine so he could speak with her.

Antoinette, Meg and Lillian had joined Tamara, Christine, Raoul and the others on the outer edge of the dancing couples. Erik did not know what aggravated him more, Tamara's scantily glad figure everyone could not help but stare at or the fact that this preempted him from making an advance to Christine as he had planned.

With everyone around it would be harder to get her alone. She had moved closer to Raoul grabbing his arm possessively. Smart woman. Raoul looked as if he had been pole axed as did every other male unless elderly and half blind and Erik could not rule those out as a gnarled old competitor to Methuselah licked his lips while eyeing Tamara like his next dose of laudanum.

Erik weaved his way through the crowd slowly. His instinct was to run and snatch both women taking them to separate parts of the opera house but knew that insanity would end in nothing but his death. He had not missed Raoul's sword at his side or the dozen or so men placed strategically around the room.

It would seem Raoul would take no chances that he would approach Christine. Raoul did not know how little he cared if a hundred men were surrounding Christine. If he wished to speak with her nothing would stand in his way. Raoul would have her all the rest of his life. A snippet of time carrying on a civilized conversation Erik felt had been owed to him.

Boldly standing behind Christine Erik tapped her on the shoulder. The others were so preoccupied with Tamara they had little concern for a man wishing to dance with Christine. Raoul should have been more diligent. If he lost his wife due to wandering eyes it would be no less than he deserved.

Christine turned when she felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned she saw a very compelling man in front of her. She could not make out much of him as his costume covered all but his lower face and hands. Those green eyes did look familiar. When she would have wanted to look away she found she could not.

Those entrancing eyes held her spellbound. Warning bells were going off in her head but for whatever reason she said not one word merely took the hand he held out to her so commandingly. A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her. Without being able to see his face, his touch seemed familiar. A warning sounded in the back of her mind which she ignored for the present. The dance had only just begun and she, for the moment at least did not wish for it to end. To this end she pushed back the information her heart had known but her mind for now refused to comprehend.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

**Battle Lines are Drawn**

Tamara had been fending off unwanted attention from more males than she cared to count. All her concern at the moment had been focused on trying to find Erik among the many party attendees. She knew for certain he would not miss this opportunity to see Christine. As much as it irritated her she could understand his need to see the young woman. She could understand it but did not have to like it. She could even understand if he still had feelings for the woman and she didn't have to like that either, and darn it she did not. Having her removed so abruptly from his life had to have left him with unresolved emotional attachment toward her but if he had an ounce of pride he accept she had given her heart to someone else. Did he not see, didn't he know, there were others, someone perhaps right under his nose ready to love him as he deserved to be loved?

Erik had fooled no one with his bold action of dancing with Christine. Raoul certainly had not been fooled. Antoinette and Meg apparantly recognised him as they said he wore a similar costume the last time he had attended a ball. Lillian was torn by what was going on around her. Tragic love stories had long been one of her secret passions. This story however involved her granddaughter. Raoul had been overjealous in hiring men to protect Christine. If things became violent Tamara may get hurt or some other innocent bystander. Why did men always resort to violence as a way to solve a disagreement?

The whole place hummed with gasps and exclamations from Raoul and a good number of men apparently in his employ as a precautionary measure against Erik doing exactly what he had done, spirited Christine away. Chaos resulted from Erik's poor judgment. If he had only waited perhaps they could have spoken on his behalf convincing Christine to let him speak with her. Raoul could have stood outside the door. A chaperone could have been appointed to be in the room with the couple. Lillian would have gladly volunteered. Any number of things could have been arranged. Erik's stubbornness had put an end to any compromises they may have reached. Now all Raoul wanted to do was find Erik and run him through with his sword. Tamara hoped Erik had not been foolish enough to bring a weapon. With all of his tricks a weapon would be unnecessary.

"Grandmother do you see him anywhere? One moment Christine was here then the next she was gone." Tamara jumped up and down trying to see over the bobbing heads of the dancers. She caught site of Christine's costume, or at least one like it.

"Dear please do stop jumping about. You are making me quite ill with all this up and downing. Antoinette do you have a clue as to what he might do or where he might take her? I'll bet he is looking quite dashing. I do wish you had told me he was here." Lillian hoped Raoul and his men did not come into contact with Erik. If he lived through this night she would be taking that young man to task for sure for placing everyone in danger this way. She would also be giving Erik the sharp side of ehr tongue. All this commotion could easily have been avoided. If Erik would read and answer her letters once in a while he would have known of her plan to speak to Christine on his behalf. Lillian, more than anyone, wanted Erik and Christine to come to a final good-bye so that Tamara and Erik could, perhaps, become more than opera manager and opera house ghost.

"I do believe that red matador is our dear Erik. How predictable he is. Did he not think everyone would remember his red death costume during the last ball? Such an entrance as he made would leave a lasting impression on anyone. Ladies I do think it is up to us to try to defuse things before someone ends up hurt or worse. Men are such hotheads when their masculinity comes into play. I can only surmise Christine did not know of Raoul's hiring all the extra security. If she had I am sure she would have put a stop to it."

"I do think you are right Antoinette about diffusing things. I will circle around to the right, Tamara you go to the left. Antoinette you take the rear and Meg you take the front. Oh this is so exciting. I feel just like a general ordering his troops." Later Tamara may take her grandmother to task for taking such enjoyment from a situation which could prove to be dangerous.

Tamara kept her eyes on the red matador, more specifically she took notice of how closely the couple danced together. Christine did not seem to mind being in the clutches of someone she claimed to fear. From what Tamara could see she looked perfectly happy to be groped by Erik. Just when Tamara found herself close enough to gain Erik's attention she saw a young man no older than nineteen approaching Erik with his sword in hand. Erik must have known he had been coming toward him as he whirled Christine to the side then knocked the boy down. Bending down Erik picked up the fallen sword.

As he stood up another older man came at him with his sword at the ready. Erik and the other man began to exchange blows with their swords. Tamara had an almost irresistible urge to pull a handful of Christine's luxurious brown hair from her head. Where the animosity against Christine stemmed from at the moment Tamara felt she knew all too well the cause and fought against it as she tried to find the best way to separate the two men without being skewered by one of them.

Tamara could see the sword heading toward Erik's side as if it were in slow motion. She could do nothing but watch in horror as the sharp blade pierced his side. Christine screamed, Tamara ran forward, Erik knocked his opponent's sword from his hand. All of this happened in quick succession yet it seemed to happen in slow motion. With his hand pressing to his side Erik turned trying to make it to one of his hidden panels. As he ran past several groups of frightened people a shot rang out. Erik stumbled to his knees. Tamara stood motionless for a mere few seconds as her brain processed what had taken place.

The pandemonium around her receded as she realized Erik had not only been stabbed in his side but now had a bullet in his back. Fear gave her the strength to surge through the chaotic mass of bodies running in all directions trying to flea to safety. She saw Erik pick himself up off the floor then stumble through the archway she had entered on the horse. Shoving people carelessly aside she made her way to the hall just in time to see Erik do something at the wall. A panel opened and he stepped through. Hurrying forward Tamara made it through just before the panel would have been completely closed.

Using her hand she caught the closing panel then shoved it back open. Looking behind her she saw no one coming in her direction. Everyone at the time wanted only to get out of harms way rather than catch the culprit causing the distress. The confusion of so many kept Raoul and his men from making progress to follow Erik.

Raoul had made his way to Christine and soon the other three women joined them. Lillian looked around but could not see her granddaughter anywhere among the milling crowd. Momentarily her grandmotherly concern kicked in. Had she with her incessant interest in that man caused Tamara some harm? If anything were to happen to her because of this Lillian would never forgive herself.

No one had seen Erik leave the ballroom or took notice of Tamara once the swordplay had started. Questions only brought more worry as no one could say with any certainty if the man in the red matador costume had taken Tamara with him. Many could attest to the fact he had been injured at least once. Blood drops on the tiles lead out into the hallway. Not far into the hallway the blood trail became obscured as many feet had trampled over the area as people tried to find a safe way out of the ballroom.

Raoul told his men to inspect the walls carefully for anything out of the ordinary. Hidden panels were one of the many tricks used by the Phantom. Trapdoors, as Raoul knew to his cost, also were a talent of the man. Within the walls of the opera house and the cellars below many means of escape and protection had been devised.

After the panel closed behind Tamara she could hear Raoul giving orders to his men. Her heart beat so quickly she felt she might faint from the fast tempo of blood flow. The darkness around her did not help. Reaching out she flailed her hand around in the darkness trying to find the wall. Once she felt the solidity of it calm began to come to her.

Stepping forward into the pitch black might have seemed foolish but it would be the only way to find Erik. With his injuries surely he could not go far. One cautious step at a time the distance closed between her and Erik. Faintly up ahead she could hear the stumbling of his feet. By now he must have lost a considerable amount of blood. He would be feeling weaker with each drop he lost.

Now she could hear low moans. At least he had not passed out as of yet. Once he did it would be harder to get him to a bed or at least a place where his injuries could be attended. Crossing her fingers they were close to his home Tamara hurried her steps as best she could with no light to guide her. Apparently Erik hadn't planned to make an exit by this route. If he had there would be torches.

Increasing her speed probably had not been a wise decision for soon she ran into a solid object which lurched forward with many curses and groans of pain. Trying to stay his fall she reached out only to grasp thin air. She heard a thud then nothing for a few seconds. Just when she thought he had passed out Erik made a moaning sound.

Kneeling down Tamara searched about blindly with her hand. Closing her mind to what she could imagine covered the solid rock floor beneath them she forced her hands to keep waving from side to side. The back of her hand slapped against what she assumed to be his leg as the clothe of his costume slid against the palm of her hand. Trailing her hand upward slowly, so as not to cause him pain, Tamara felt the warm stickiness of his blood coating his side. She need not ask him to rise so she could feel the wound on his back. The blood soaking through his jacket caused her to feel slightly queasy and she could only feel it. When she had to actually see it she might pass out.

"Erik it is me, Tamara. Can you get up if I help you? You can't stay here." Movement from his body made her feel slightly relieved. His angry words however she could have done without.

"Damn it woman I would have been well on my way back to my home had you not interfered." Erik's pain made him want to lash out at someone and Tamara happened to be handy.

"Well pardon me for caring. I was only trying to help. Next time I will say good riddance and let the rats feast on your dead carcass." Tamara didn't mean a word of it but he hurt her feelings. She had felt bad enough that he had taken that unnecessary risk just to dance with Christine and now he berated her for caring.

"Well the next time you have it in your mind to _help_ me, don't." He heard a sniffle coming from the darkness where he imagined she sat on the cold stone floor. Making her cry had not been his intention. Anger at his stupidity made him harsher than he should have been with her. All fault for this mess he now found himself in could be sat directly at his own feet. What idiocy had made him risk losing...well not exactly the love of his life but perhaps something on that path.

"I…I am sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I would appreciate a helping hand as I do think I may keel over if I try to stand on my own. If you hadn't come along knocking me to the floor I may well have fallen on my own within the next few minutes." He hoped his admission mollified her hurt feelings a little.

Sniffling loudly she used the thin cloth of her costume to wipe her nose. What she needed was a handkerchief. Wiping the remaining tears from her eyes she took a deep sustaining breath then set about helping Erik. Somewhat mollified by his words she helped Erik to his feet and nearly dropped to the floor when his arm came down heavily against her shoulders. Several pain filled attempts had to be made before they found a position that felt comfortable for both of them. Being of a rather tall frame and muscled body when Erik placed his arm about her shoulder they both staggered as she adjusted to his added weight. It would not be an easy journey for either of them. Not knowing how far they had to go or even which direction to go Tamara had to rely on Erik's precise directions. He must know every crack and cranny of these tunnels. In fact he warned her of several places where the stones were uneven.

Dim light could finally be seen up ahead after a good twenty minutes of a slow but steady pace. They had stopped so Erik could tear some material from his shirt to use as compression on his wounds. That seemed to stem the flow of blood while not completely stopping the slow draining of his life-force. She wanted to hug him to her tightly but knew at the moment that would be a waste of precious time.

Tamara blinked not able to believe what her eyes saw once they came into the full light surrounding what looked like the front of a house, a house located deep within the earth. Lighting fixtures had been erected casting their glow upon the greenish water of the lake everyone had heard flowed beneath the opera house but had discounted until the night of the disaster.

"If you must gawk at least help me to my bed then you may gawk all you like. We either move now or I collapse to the ground where I shall die. Do you wish to have my death on your hands? Have I disgusted you to the point you would hasten my end?"

"Don't be so dramatic. If I wished for you to die I would have left you lying on the cold stone floor. Another hour and I would have been well rid of you." Tamara heard the catch in her voice indicating tears were not far away. How could he speak so cavalierly about his life? Did living mean so little to him? Perhaps Christine had said something that devastated him to the point he cared little about himself or anyone else.

Erik grunted but made no other comment. Luckily the water in front of Erik's home only reached their mid-calf. By silent agreement they moved forward finally reaching a door, a real door of all things. None of this matched anything anyone had said about his home beneath the opera house. Christine and Meg had declared it a magnificent place but from what they described it had been a more open area surrounded by candlelight everywhere, Now gas lighting cast the glow lighting their way. Tamara rather thought she would have liked to see it all as it had been before. She felt unreasonably cheated.

Fumbling with the doorknob while trying to balance Erik against her at last she managed to get the door opened. She felt his weight shifting more heavily against her as he lost strength. Anxiously she glanced up into his face. His eyes were barely open. Lines of pain creased his handsome face. Trickles of sweat rolled down from his forehead and from underneath his mask. All that dripping salty sweat had to be irritating. His skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor.

If the outside had amazed her the inside astounded her. Everywhere she looked there were objects of art worth more than most men could earn in their entire life. The furnishings were all the best quality from the major suppliers of fine furniture. Clearly all this spoke of a man who appreciated the finer things in life.

Weakly Erik pointed in the general direction where Tamara could see a doorway leading to a short hallway. Supporting Erik even more now as weakness overtook him she half dragged him to where he had pointed. Going down the hall she stopped when he pointed toward the first door. Sagging now under his considerable weight she tried to jostle him as little as possible while trying to turn the knob and hold him at the same time.

Breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened they entered the room. This had to be his bedroom. Everything in this room epitomized masculine influence, from the oversized bed, to the draperies on the wall. Everything consisted of red, gold and black. Normally this color combination might have seemed overpowering or depressing with so much black but Erik had used the colors in such a way as to set the scene for seduction. The bed with its many large pillows invited one to lie down and test the comfort the overstuffed mattress indicated.

Coming to the side of the bed both were glad when Erik could sit down even if he had to flop down gracelessly. Falling backward Erik groaned when his back hit the mattress. Even that bit of jostling sent bolts of heated pain through his side and shoulder. Opening his eyes all he could see before him were wavering shapes just before total darkness took him into oblivion. One inconsequential thought came to him in that momen, he regretted the ruining of his bedding. Bedding he chosen especially with Tamara in mind.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**

**Tender Mercies**

This situation had never been one discussed in any classroom or parlor among any ladies. Tamara had seen injuries and helped tend to some of those who sought out her mother's help with infection or stitching closed an open wound. The greater part of any nursing had been done by her mother while as a young girl Tamara had looked on. Naturally over the years many things had been learned but whether she could tend to wounds as serious as those Erik had worried her.

First Erik's clothing would need to be removed; all of it down to his bare skin, down to all of those ripcord muscles she knew had been hidden underneath his fine clothing. She could leave his trousers on but that would complicate things when Erik awoke weak and needed to be helped to the facilities. He may well give her an ear full once he came back to his full faculties but until then any decisions made were on her shoulders.

Watching and lusting after him while he lay on the bed passed out from pain would do neither of them any good. The amount of blood and Erik's continued moans of pain even while unconscious would help to curb any lascivious ideas she may have crossing her mind. Her grandmother had taught her to be a lady so she did not think she'd be jumping Erik any time soon.

Something for bandages would be needed along with needle, thread, antiseptic, and some sort of pain reliever. If he had some wine or brandy that could serve as disinfectant as well as an aid for the temporary relief of pain until proper medication could be found. Extra blankets would come in handy if he became feverish and chilled which she felt may well happen due to a loss of blood.

Everything about Erik's home spoke of an elegant man's taste. Everything had been purchased for quality. Searching through the house gave her an opportunity to discover that many of Erik's fine furnishings had been made by his own hand. Every piece of his own carried his name to mark it proudly. He had a right to be proud. Such artistry added another dimension to his many talents. What in the world could the man accomplish with just a little encouragement? The world would be his tapestry if it would allow him free reign to show his many gifts.

Even Erik's medicine cabinet held many potions and salves many physicians had only read about in books from other lands. Luckily he kept an array of herbs for pain as well as healing. He had even had the forethought to write out instructions as to the amount of the doses and how many per day to give a patient. Perhaps he had done this in case he ever needed Antoinette to attend to him. Tamara doubted Erik would seek out anyone unless he neared death and even then he would hesitate. He did not strike her as being one to put his trust in anyone willingly.

Gathering everything into a basket taken from the kitchen she returned to Erik's bedroom. He had not regained conscientiousness, for which she would be grateful as digging around in someone's flesh for a bullet would never be anything one would do willingly unless absolutely a life or death situation arose. Even now queasiness threatened to send her from the room. Gulping down the bile, then inhaling deeply the next few hours were not anything she would wish to ever repeat.

Tugging on Erik's clothing caused his wounds to bleed more freely. Finding scissors she cut the material from him not liking having to destroy his clothing but could do little else. Painful groans filled the room at the first tug on his boots. Having rather large feet coupled with the fine leather made for a difficult task to remove them from someone who could not help in any way. The boots Tamara refused to cut. His body could have any old thing thrown over it but covering for the feet would need to be adequate down here where one misstep could cause serious injury.

Concentrating on tending to serious wounds while ignoring Erik's all too male body challenged her in so many ways. Touching his flesh would have been some wonderful fantasy come true, if not for the fact that she wielded scissors digging into an open wound trying to extract a bullet. Never one to care for the sight of blood challenged her ability to stay upright and not faint dead away. Knowing his very life depended on her being able to remove the bullet then stem the flow of blood kept her mind focused on the task and less on the sick feeling churning inside her stomach.

The wound from the steel blade only needed to be cleaned then stitched. Rolling him over to inspect and tend the gunshot wound presented a physical challenge. Erik weighed some seventy pounds more than she did. His size would have presented difficulties even if he were conscious and able to help a little. Being unconscious the task took on Herculean proportions.

Silky material floating about annoyed her as well as got in the way so she removed that obstacle post haste. If anyone had been present to observe her near nakedness it may have bothered her but she would have forged ahead trying to save Erik's life. Nothing at that moment held any greater importance than that he should live.

Digging into his flesh she regretted not learning more about the human anatomy. Praying God guided her hand, Tamara tried to find the small piece of metal that had tore through his flesh so easily. When she felt the resistance against the tip of the scissors all she could do was hope no further damage had been done by her inexperienced hand.

Clearing away all the bloodied and torn pieces of fabric as well as the pan of blood red water kept her mind from focusing on the fact that Erik had not regained consciousness during the whole procedure nor did he look as if he would come around any time soon. Perhaps that would be a normal response from a body tasked by such blood loss as Erik had suffered.

Feeling better once everything had been put back into order, Tamara dragged a heavy chair toward the bed. Until he awoke she could not chance leaving him alone. Even then she'd have to come back often to tend to him. Forcing herself not to blush as she contemplated all that would need to be done for him left her with little hope that he would not curse her to the devil once he regained his faculties.

Having seen it as necessary his mask and wig had been removed. Being naked would hold not as much distress for him as her seeing what those two items hid from view would have on him. Knowing of his famous temper almost had her running for cover every time he moaned or moved as pain throbbed throughout his body even while he could not feel the full magnitude of what had been inflicted on his body.

Fever took hold during the night causing bouts of chills alternating with bouts of sweating. Washcloth after washcloth wiped over him from head to toe without his ever knowing of it. Closing her eyes kept her from seeing an image of him that would embarrass them both once he came around. Feeling all his manly muscles and other unmentionable parts plagued her mind without having to see it all. Her hands learned his form in a way she would never have expected to learn another human being, at least not without the benefit of marriage or some close relationship.

With drooping eyelids she kept vigil over the patient. Sleepily her thoughts turned to just what would be happening above concerning all the chaos that had been taking place when Erik had let himself be caught with his guard down. It would seem Christine had the power to remove all sense of self-preservation from him. His actions clearly let everyone know just where his emotions were focused. Tamara drifted into sleep feeling saddened by her thoughts as well as a little ache just where her heart beat in her chest.

Whatever she thought might be building between Erik and herself now must be repressed with this new knowledge. She'd take care of him as best she could, then once his complete recovery had been assured a return to the life they led before with slight differences would be in order. No more intimate evenings on the roof. No more useless fantasies. All future expectations of any declarations could be buried underneath a reinforced resolve to forget any fledgling feelings which may or may not have been developing between them, at least on her part.

Living without a man hadn't been so bad before. Life could be lived alone, at least alone as far as having an intimate partner in life was concerned. Fooling ones self while awake proved easier than when ones subconscious refused to cooperate with the conscious wish to forget.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-six**

**Search for a Ghost**

Pandemonium ruled in the wake of Erik's bid for freedom. Antoinette, Christine, Meg and Lillian stood looking about with an array of emotions crossing their faces ranging from fright to anger. All of this need not have happened if men were not such pigheaded louts. Protection of loved ones was all well and good and to be commended as long as it did not put others in harms way. This needless violence shocked them all.

"All of this is my fault. I should either have ignored the fact that I recognized who wore the matador's costume or made sure we were out of the sight of Raoul and his henchmen. I knew nothing good would come of hiring so many men to watch out for our welfare. I told Raoul my Angel would not harm me. If he contacted me at all it would be only to talk. Raoul thought I did not know of the men he hired to watch over us this evening. I would have to be blind and quite stupid not to realize a dozen men followed us from our carriage and then up the steps into the opera house. I know my Angel can be...over dramatic but he wouldn't hurt me, of this I am certain." Even Christine did not believe all what she proclaimed. Knowing her former teacher as she did nothing would have surprised her.

"Now dear you cannot take all the blame on your shoulders. That dear boy would have found a way to stir up some trouble one way or another. I do believe he has some imp in him urging him on. The things he does around the opera house is at times quite entertaining even while being utterly annoying," Lillian said with a fond smile as if she spoke of a mischievous grandson or nephew.

"Yes our dear Erik is quite the prankster. I do believe though that we are coming to terms with one another." Lillian spoke fondly and confidently about a person Christine had never known by any names other than Angel of Music, Phantom or Opera Ghost. How had Lillian become so closely enmeshed in his life that she felt comfortable to refer to him as Erik? How had she won the honor of knowing his true name when she, Christine, his pupil, his declared love, had never heard any name other than those subscribed to him by everyone in the opera house, including herself?

"Erik? How do you…who told you…his name is Erik?" Christine heard herself babbling in disjointed sentences. When everyone looked at her as if she spoke another language the feeling of inadequacy intensified.

"Why my dear, surely you knew him by name? Having meant so much to one another would you not have asked him for a name once you had been shown he was not either ghost or phantom but very much a man, not an ordinary man by any means but a man nonetheless?" Lillian tried to keep the censure from her words but felt she failed as Christine's face flushed with guilty color.

Meg stepped closer to Christine trying to give support as best as she could. She had often wondered why Christine had not made any effort to learn more of the teacher who had devoted so much of his life to her. Christine had always been somewhat naïve about life.

"Ladies it does us no good to rehash all of this old tragedy. Not at the moment at least, later perhaps. Tamara is missing and I think we all know just where she has gone, either willingly or by force. I would hate to think Erik could be so callous as to take a hostage or try to shield his whereabouts by taking Tamara with him. Having observed what has been going on I do feel she may have followed Erik to aid in his escape under the falsehood that he would need help." Lillian spoke with conviction.

"You think…you believe Tamara is with…with Erik?" Christine did not know which felt more unbelievable, that she called her angel by his given name, Erik, or that the woman she had come to think might be a friend had slipped away to be with him. Just what that meant in terms of their relationship confused Christine. Never had she been put in the position of thinking of him with another person let alone a woman.

It disturbed her in an odd way to imagine him with anyone other than herself. A wave of possessiveness washed over her bringing with it what felt like jealousy. Could she still have feelings for Erik? His name sounded unfamiliar to her and did not give her a feeling of comfort to think of him as anything other than her angel. Selfishly she wanted him to stay as he had been when he tutored her. For him to move past that would mean there was a possibility he would move on discarding his affections for her.

"Christine so much has happened since you last saw Erik. I honestly think he is trying to find a foothold in the world. Lillian and Tamara have asked him to sign on as a sort of co-manager. If he agrees that would give him a legitimate say in opera business. Please, if you can, please use your influence on Raoul to stop this vendetta. I do not believe it was Erik's intention to cause any trouble tonight. He is trying to change. Please let him have this one chance. If he fails in this bid for a little pride, who knows what he might do?" Antoinette feared if Erik lost any more faith in himself and humanity he may try to end his life or do something everyone would regret. Erik never did anything in a small way.

Raoul came running toward them with his sword still in his hand. Sweat coated his upper lip and forehead. His hair had come undone from the ribbon holding it in place. Several men were behind him looking as if they too had been running. Raoul used his sleeve to wipe his brow earning a censorious frown from Christine for his ill-mannered behavior.

"We lost him. The devil slipped through one of his secret panels. We did spot blood on the floor in several places so he is wounded," Raoul said with a touch of pride.

"Young man if any harm has been done to dear Erik I personally shall use the wrong end of a horsewhip on you. All this swordplay need not have happened. All he wanted to do was speak with Christine, nothing more than that." Even as she spoke the words Lillian had a hard time believing them herself as she well knew Erik had some residual feelings for Christine he had yet to overcome. A love such as Erik had for Christine might be one that would not stay buried in the past. From what Antoinette, Meg and Christine herself said, Erik had been blindly and passionately in love with Christine. How does one recover from such a love? Lillian knew from her own marriage that the love she felt for her husband burned as strongly within her breast today as it had when she first felt her heart beat in time with his.

Raoul looked at Lillian as if she had lost her mind. If he thought to find support for his view of the man he sought it didn't take long for him to realize he would need to find others to take his side. Christine wore a censorious look as did the others with only slightly differing degrees. Antoinette he felt held the most sympathy for him as she knew what had transpired between him and his nemesis. Even in her eyes he did not read complete agreement for his plan to capture the man who haunted him even while he slept.

Surprisingly Christine took Erik's side against Raoul. When she began to chastise him for what happened earlier he felt as if she had slapped him or at the very least taken his manhood and ground it under her foot in the presence of everyone. All this last year he had not wanted to believe Christine had any remaining regard for her former tutor but now he could see that not only did she have some feelings for him but the others did as well.

Christine did her best to sooth Raoul's ruffled feathers. Jealousy had not been her goal when telling him how she felt for her former teacher. Telling him as clearly as she could what exactly she did feel seemed to calm his bloodlust a little. If she mispoke of her true feelings only she would know. Madame and Meg helped explain how long Erik had been in her life and just what his presence had meant to her as a child growing up and a young adult coming into her own on the stage. This story was not something new to any of them. Antoinette had told Raoul of Erik's past the night Erik had murdered Joseph. Only a few of Erik's transgressions had she kept to herself. If it meant calming everyone she would tell every minute detail from the past.

Lillian felt a confusing array of emotions. Raoul she knew to be a good and honorable man with slightly prejudiced ideas concerning Erik. Young men did tend to let their lusts rule their heads. Any perceived slight would be considered grounds for calling out another to a duel. Jealousy, possessiveness and protective instincts were admirable traits when a person didn't go overboard with any one of them. Erik and Raoul were two perfect examples of men going to excess with their emotions.

Once guests calmed and began leaving in a more sedate fashion Antoinette suggested they resume discussion while sitting at one of the dining hall tables. She and the other ladies could make tea and perhaps find something from the buffet table that had not hit the floor once pandemonium broke out. The discussion had turned to heated arguments then cooled once overwrought emotions had been calmed. Raoul and his men wanted to scour the underbelly of the opera house. Lillian forbade them to do any such thing. What with Erik's traps and all the natural hazards among the clutter from years of collecting castoff paraphernalia, the lower cellars were far from safe to those unaccustomed to walking through the many twisted paths that ran through massive piles of discarded opera house items.

It had not been easy to convince Raoul to let Antoinette and Lillian deal with Erik. Assuring him that if Tamara had not been returned or made contact by mid-day tomorrow Raoul would have their blessing to use whatever means necessary to hunt Erik and Tamara down. Lillian did not foresee Tamara not finding some way to leave word of her present position. Being the only family they had each woman took care to watch over the other.

Having won Raoul's consent the two women spent the next few hours trying to figure out how best to go about a search. They took it for granted that Raoul would either shadow them himself or have one of his men do the honors. He had made no promise not to keep tabs on their activities. He had only agreed to curtail an active search for Erik. If he came upon his quarry while going about his business he would consider that he had kept to his word.

Although admiring Raoul's cleverness by leaving himself a loophole it did annoy her. Being a woman who usually found such loopholes when dealing with Tamara she chided herself for being so careless. In future she would examine conversations between her and the Vicomte much closely.

Meg had wanted to help so much against Antoinette's approval she had volunteered to distract Raoul's men with the aid of a few of her friends. Not many men could resist a woman's admiration for his good-looks and skills when pitted against a foe. A few well placed compliments and those big burly men would be falling all over themselves to impress their admirers. Their distraction during this time would give Antoinette and Lillian the time they needed to make their way into the cellars. With so many avenues to investigate it would take hours if not days.

Antoinette remembered the general direction but Erik had altered the tunnels to such a degree that becoming lost would be all too easy. The easiest way in would be through the mirror in Tamara's room. Neither woman spoke their thoughts aloud concerning just how Erik had used that mirror to spy on Tamara in many private moments. Tamara herself could have had the thing removed once she knew he watched her. It did not take much imagination to discover the reason it remained and uncovered at that.

Each of them carried a lantern. Antoinette had vetoed Lillian's idea of traveling light with only candles. To make her point Antoinette had told of former employees who had made the mistake of trying to travel the underground tunnels with only a candle for light. Hundreds of tunnels crisscrossed the dark underground and then there was the lake to contend with also.

In the dark one could take one misstep and end up in water over ones head with an iron gate pressing them down under the water as had happened to Raoul. Getting lost with only a candle for light would not be a pleasant prospect if one got lost for days. The candle would last for a few hours only while the lantern would last longer.

Along the many routes they took conversation naturally turned to Erik and Tamara as well as Christine and Raoul. Antoinette went into further detail about Erik's past life. She did not gloss over his less than stellar accomplishments nor did she negate any of the positive things Erik had done over the years neither asking for recognition nor gratitude. Countless times he had left some small monetary gift for one employee or another when times were hard.

Erik had pretended not to care for humanity while needing the approval of others in a very human way. He had tried to win Christine's most of all. When he began teaching her and caring for her it had been as if Erik had been given a new lease on life. He had someone who needed and wanted him. Christine had not asked anything other than he came to her so he might sing or tell her stories. Later when Erik found out Christine possessed the gift of song he had wanted to hone her instrument.

Lillian had already formed an opinion of Erik and nothing Antoinette said changed how she thought of him other than to make her more certain he and Tamara would be good for one another. All that needed to be done would be for the two of them to hash out all this nonsense of Erik's continued affections for Christine. In Lillian's opinion if Erik had truly loved Christine in a 'til death do us part' sort of way he would have left the opera house and moved heaven and earth to reunite with Christine.

Their reunion had not come because Erik had sought Christine out. It had come by a fortuitous set of circumstances. Perhaps it had been a good thing for Erik to see Christine once again so he might compare his feelings for her to how he felt about Tamara. In Lillian's opinion Christine had come to be possessive of Erik simply because he had been the only male influence in her life until Raoul. Women did tend to think fondly of their first crush.

A few hours and many blisters later they concluded enough was enough. By silent agreement they headed back toward the upper levels stopping many times to catch their breath. Idly Lillian had the thought that if Erik contended with these miles of tunnels and many stairs up and down on a daily basis it would be no wonder if he did not present a very fine specimen of manhood. Not having seen Erik unclothed she could only speculate of course and briefly she found herself envying Tamara for perhaps being able to get a birds-eye view of Erik in all his naked glory.

Knowing she should feel shamed by such speculation Lillian smiled a secret smile because not one whit of shame did she feel. On the contrary, she felt quite satisfied with her conscience at the moment. Perhaps she did have a bit of guilt for having been the one to insist Christine and Raoul come but not very much as in the end it would prove to be good for all of them. If Raoul had not been so typically male charging in to rescue his lady when no rescue had been needed everything would have taken a more peaceful turn…perhaps.

Coming through the mirror into Tamara's room Antoinette and Lillian were confronted by an excited Meg and Christine. Raoul and his men looked very disgruntled and out of sorts. A couple of the younger ones were looking at Meg as if they had been wounded in some way by her. Antoinette cast glances between her daughter and the two men wondering what in the world she could have done in the few short hours to garner such looks. Meg stared back at her mother with innocent unconcern. Antoinette thought it might be time to set Meg down and have a very candid discussion with her concerning men and how they may act to actions they could misconstrue that she may do giving them a false impression of her intentions.

Christine had been beside herself as they anxiously waited for word of Tamara's fate. Raoul still felt somewhat in disfavor toward her because she still worried about Erik and could not deny having certain feelings toward him. When Raoul had asked her to explain those emotions she could not do so in a way that would satisfy either of them. Confusion seemed to be the paramount emotion. So little time had been given to discover just what those feelings were before the world had come crashing down on them and she and Erik were separated.

What she did know with absolute certainty was that she loved Raoul and could not picture her life without him nor did she wish to do so. Erik…well the issue of Erik was something she would have to pick apart over time to place him in a compartment of her life that was pleasant but in the past. There could be no going back to what was or may have been. Why destroy something potentially wonderful for them all with speculation and maybes? Christine had come to think and hope that Tamara would be the answer that Erik had sought all of his life. With God's blessing perhaps she could give Erik what Christine herself could not.

Having concluded that it would be best to wait for Tamara to make contact with them everyone agreed to wait in Tamara's room. Everyone took up a position that would be comfortable for a number of hours that they may need to wait. It seemed logical that Tamara would come through the mirror rather than try to find another of Erik's hidden panels. The passage from Erik's home to Christine's old dressing room had always been the shortest and most direct route to reach the upper levels. Antoinette prayed Erik had not been rendered unconscious and unable to give Tamara directions back to the world above. The next time Raoul and his men went in search of Erik she felt they would not stop until Erik's blood had been spilled. All they could do now would be pray and wait.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

**Making Amends**

Not long after Tamara had finished with Erik's wounds she had been awakened by a continuous cacophony of bells sounding off somewhere within Erik's home. Remembering that Erik had many traps set she concluded he must also have some warning system set up. Not wanting to wake him just when he seemed to finally have drifted into a natural sleep instead of being unconscious from his wounds or restless from the fever, she wondered if she dare try to find whoever was wandering around down here.

With all that had happened it seemed logical that Raoul and his hired henchmen would be prowling around trying to find Erik. It had even crossed her mind that her grandmother might come looking for her. Having a granddaughter missing would give Lillian all the excuse she would need to go poking around in the lower regions of the opera house. It had been hard enough before to curtail her grandmother's curiosity about Erik and the place he called home. This latest fiasco would be all the incentive her grandmother would need to use as a legitimate reason for a thorough search below.

Standing over Erik as he rested somewhat peacefully she debated what to do. He had been less restless once she had bathed him and the fever had begun to recede. Now he only moved about mumbling every so often as he sought a more comfortable position in sleep. The jealous womanly part of her wished she could understand his rambling. Thus far she had not heard either Christine's name or her own. Whatever troubles Erik had during this time it did not include either woman who had been entangled in his life.

At last concluding that she must risk trying to find her way back Tamara did what she could to leave things so that if Erik awoke he would have at hand water and the pain medication if he should need it. She wrote a brief note letting him know where she had gone and assured him she had committed the route he had taken her to memory so as not to get lost if she needed to return alone. While not telling a total lie Tamara did stretch the truth a little. Most of the route she could recall but not every turn or panel he had taken her through. At the time her focus had been more on Erik and the beady eyes and rustling in the dark corners of the tunnels. Branding a map into her brain had been secondary to everything else.

If at all possible she would bring back a few essential items such as a change of clothing. Something a bit warmer and less revealing would be nice. A pair of men's trousers seemed like the best choice for traveling the tunnels as well as climbing if she had to do that at some point. She recalled there were stairs somewhere that led from this level to all the higher levels. A dangerous route with Erik's many traps but he could provide her with a safe route.

It could be weeks before Erik's health returned enough that he could fend for himself. Her grandmother would never consent to Tamara being alone so long with Erik without having some daily contact. Even with her grandmother leaning on the side of Erik and her granddaughter getting together some propriety had to be observed.

Not wishing to encounter anyone other than Antoinette or her grandmother Tamara set of with high hopes for a quick and safe journey. Luck was with her as she found the mirror to her room after many trials and errors. Having made many wrong turns that led her in circles Tamara had dug her heels in the loosened dirt she found in places along the way to mark where she had already been. Using this method at last she found the right tunnel. She would be bringing paper, pen and chalk with her on the return journey so that she could mark the way as she went and make a map.

Standing in front of her the mirror that led to her room Tamara could see her room had been filled to capacity with people. The women she did not mind but Raoul and his men could mean trouble. Taking a calming breath Tamara searched around with her hand until she found the hidden mechanism that would open the mirrored panel. When she heard the low click she felt relief flood over her.

Slowly she slid the panel aside hoping Erik was as thorough in keeping the panels well oiled as he was careful with everything else concerning keeping his privacy. Not a sound could be heard other than the snoring and mingled breathing of everyone. Carefully Tamara slid through the opening then snuck over to stand over her grandmother. Hoping she did not give her grandmother a heart attack, Tamara bent down to place her hand over Lillian's mouth.

Lillian startled awake ready to scream her head off until she awoke enough to realize the person stemming her scream happened to be her very own missing granddaughter. Shaking her head that she understood when Tamara put her finger over her mouth, Tamara removed her hand then pointed toward the door that lead into the hallway. Lillian again nodded consent that she would follow. Quietly they opened the door then closed it gratefully behind them without anyone within the room being any the wiser that they had had a visitor.

Before Lillian could launch into a bevy of questions Tamara grabbed her hand so she could lead her further down the hall before they spoke. There would be too many questions to answer which is exactly what Tamara wanted to avoid. She would tell her grandmother of course what had happened and her plan to stay with Erik. All the others needed to know was that Erik had not forced her to go with him or would he be keeping her against her will the next few days.

"Dear Lord child, is it your intention to age me beyond my years? I felt you would be alright with Erik but there did seem to be a bit too much blood lying about for my comfort. I was worried about you and Erik as well. How is the dear boy? If Raoul has done anything irreparable to that young man I will personally see him tarred and feathered." By the end of her speech Lillian's voice had risen an octave or two and Tamara had to shush her.

"Grandmother I am sorry for any worry I caused but as you know there wasn't time to make any plans. I had to react quickly in order to be able to aid Erik. He had been stabbed and shot. One of those cowardly men shot him in the back as he was retreating." For the moment Tamara forgot she felt any anger toward Erik for his part in all of this. Her concern for his safety and the fact that if not for Raoul's overprotective nature everything may have ended differently had her defending Erik. Later her anger toward Erik would return as it came back to her that if he had not been so insistent about speaking to Christine in a roomful of theater guests a confrontation could have been avoided.

"Goodness. I thought as much when Raoul said they had spotted blood leading off down the hall and we found more in the ballroom itself. Antoinette and I tried to find our way to Erik's in order to assure ourselves and everyone else that Erik had not kidnapped you. They, meaning Raoul and his men, would not believe you had gone with Erik willingly no matter what I said.

So dear how is he? I can't say I don't have a few concerns about you being alone with Erik in this way but I suppose there is no other way. Were you able to tend to him without…well what I mean to say is without…"

Lillian paused to give a disgusted huff before continuing on clearly distraught as she said, "Well I would never have thought it but my dear I am a smidgeon uncomfortable speaking to you about what is under a man's clothing. Realistically I know it would be necessary to remove articles of clothing but well…I just don't think it proper to say such things out loud."

Tamara looked at her grandmother with disbelief clearly written on her face. Her grandmother had never been reticent before about speaking plainly on any subject that Tamara could recall. She even spoke of matters that had no relevance to either woman. True they had never spoke of men and their anatomy before but Tamara had assumed one day they would if and when a man came along who drew Tamara's attention. Now one had and her grandmother baulked to even speak of removing his clothing.

"Grandmother let me ease your mind. I did remove his clothing but kept my eyes where they should be and not perusing things meant to be private." How Tamara kept the blush of guilt from staining her cheeks she would never know. Honestly it had been her intention to do exactly as she said but when all of Erik's glory had been before her she could not resist taking a long encompassing look. If she had committed the image to memory could she help that?

After they discussed the matter in detail of just how best to tend to Erik Tamara won out in her bid to continue to be Erik's nursemaid. Lillian had to concede that Erik would be hard for her to manage in his present state of disability.

The costume department seemed the most likely place to have trousers for Tamara and sturdy boots. Once they found a couple of pairs she put on one pair and put the other shirt and trousers in a linen cloth used in productions to cover tables. Tying that into a bundle they then went to the office where the staff doctor kept his medical supplies. Everything needed Tamara tossed into her bundle which seemed to be growing heavier the more they found that may be needed in the future.

Not knowing if Erik had a supply of food they headed for the kitchen. Bread and cheese would have to do with a few apples and grapes until later. The burden of the heavy bundle now nearly threatened to pull Tamara to the floor.

They decided it would be safer for Tamara to try to find the panel Erik had taken her through tonight rather than return to Tamara's room risking awakening everyone. Both of them felt all along the wall carefully trying to feel any irregularities. They had almost given up when Lillian triumphantly exclaimed when her fingers felt a little rise just to the side of one panel in the hall. Unless one did exactly as they had done the lever would never have been seen. Even knowing it was there it was nearly impossible to see it. Not wishing to have trouble finding it again Lillian marked it with her fingernail. Tamara felt certain she and Erik would be having company as soon as her grandmother could find herself alone and able to go through the panel unnoticed.

With a quick kiss and tight hug Lillian watched as Tamara disappeared through one of Erik's many hidden doorways to his home. Once again she thought Erik had to be a genius to have done all he had with so little to work with. What might he do once he had the proper tools?

Lillian frowned wondering how best to explain letting Tamara return to Erik below. The women would understand but the men would likely think she had taken leave of her senses. It would not be in her best interests to declare her hopes that Erik would be one day a part of her family, a grandson at that even if only by marriage.

Heading back to Tamara's room and those occupying the space in Tamara's absence, Lillian could not help her jaunty steps all the way back. Christine may feel a little jealousy at first but Raoul would use his winning ways to remind his wife just where her affection belonged. Who could blame Christine really for being so confused by the two men? Each had much to recommend them as well as glaring faults. Both men were handsome and virile even if Erik tended not to see himself in that light. From what she had gathered a good number of the women attending that performance of Don Juan Triumphant would not say no to Erik putting his boots under their bed.

Tamara herself could be counted among them. Now if nature would take its course without Tamara losing her virtue before a ring could be put on her finger all would be right with the world, at least the immediate world of L'Opéra Populaire.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

**Winning the Damsel**

Tamara breathed a sigh of relief to see the lights from Erik's home shining out over the water. Trying to hurry back she had taken more than one wrong turn. A couple of times she had nearly fallen victim to Erik's traps. She really must speak to him about disarming those lethal precautions in favor of something less deadly. Even if one knew their way about accidents still happened.

Not pausing in her stride she went directly to where Erik still lay sleeping. Concern had her reaching out her hand to feel his forehead. Cool but not clammy. At least his fever had not returned. He seemed to be sleeping naturally and not unconscious. Unable to resist Tamara found her hand wandering over his handsome features. He moaned then shifted. Instantly her hand paused in its quest to explore Erik intimately. When he did not waken she continued to discover what had been hidden by his mask and clothing. She did have some scruples so kept her discoveries above the waist. The plane of his chest had enough fascinating contours to keep her busy for quite some time.

Erik had awoken shortly after Tamara had departed. Her perfume had still lingered in the air around him so he knew her departure had been recent. When he realized that he had not one stitch on perhaps it had been just as well Tamara had not been present as his considerable temper had gotten the best of him. Such fowl language had come from his mouth that would have earned him a boxed ear or two if Antoinette had heard him.

Trying to sit up had not been one of his wisest decisions. Hot pokers of pain had shot throughout his back and side. If he had cursed before that time the air had turned blue with his cursing when the pain overtook all thought. Most of the time Erik deplored men or even women using such language but with the pain overtaking him along with his anger to have been striped bare, including his face, he felt justified for his slip this time.

Lying very still had soon eased the throbbing and feeling that a fire had been lit in his body. He used the time waiting for Tamara's return to assess the situation. If he had to be disabled and forced to stay in bed it might not be so bad to have Tamara nursing him back to health. The more he thought of what her care would entail the more he found himself liking the idea. Since his face had been exposed already that would not be an issue. Briefly his doubts had almost swayed his certainty. In the end he concluded that fate would determine the path he would take in the near future. If she returned he would pursue her with unwavering determination. He'd have her in his bed willing to ease his frustration or he would shoot himself thereby eliminating all of his troubles. Just at the moment he did not particularly feel any inclination to end his life so he must believe Tamara would return. Damned if an hour later after resolving his debate she did indeed return and what a marvelous return it had been.

When he first felt her hand upon his face he did not think it was anything more than her checking to see if his fever had returned. That rationale soon flew out the proverbial window as her touch turned from clinical to caressing. If she merely wished to ascertain whether or not he had been feverish she could have learned that by touching his forehead. The slow path her hands had traveled down over his neck to his shoulder then finally reaching his chest had not been necessary but gladly suffered by Erik. Perhaps not so much suffering had been involved. Just moments later Erik changed his mind about the suffering. He suffered plenty but not in any adverse way. His distress stemmed from not being able to drag Tamara down to the mattress beside him.

Surely his restraint had earned him some slight concession on the long list of his crimes. Feeling his body harden as it urged him to seek release he believed God owed him a very large credit for being good when everything within him urged him to be very bad. Years of watching performances must have paid off as Erik continued to pretend to sleep while Tamara ran her hands over his chest. She must have been very distracted otherwise she would have felt the wild thrumming of his heart beating against his chest.

If she went below his waist all bets would be off. He would not be able to withstand that sort of pleasant torture. He found himself half wishing she would lower the blanket further just so he could use that as an excuse to let his libido have free reign over his emotions. Having her shed propriety in this way did please him. At least now he knew that she had been thinking of him in terms of a man and not only a business proposition.

When her hand returned to softly touch his ruined face Erik nearly groaned with pleasure. How she could stomach looking at him had puzzled him but to actually dare to touch that part of him which he himself hated astonished him. Such tenderness had never been his to experience other than Christine's two kisses. He could not even remember if she had touched him. If she had surely he would hold that as a dear memory just as her kisses had been. Wanting to speak to Tamara Erik decided he must sacrifice these precious stolen moments of tenderness. If things went as he hoped she might dare to do more with him. He must be certain to keep his control firmly in place. Coaxing her to join him would take finesse not unbound lust.

Feigning movements of a person just coming to consciousness, Erik stretched then groaned as his hand moved to his shoulder in an honest movement to ease the pain. He had to swallow the curses that had wanted to be released in his moment of agony. Any suffering he had to endure he considered well worth the benefit of Tamara leaning down so close to his face that he could feel her warm breath on his skin.

More than anything at this moment he wanted to pull her down for a searing kiss. Patience had never been one of his virtues but now it would be one he cultivated in his bid to win Tamara's affection. Erik had begun his campaign with the idiotic notion that he could keep his emotions under control but as he heard Tamara's soft crooning and her gentle hand running soothingly over his face he had to face the truth. He loved her, deeply, madly, without rhyme or reason. He did not feel the obsessive compulsion that had ruled him during his insane pursuit of Christine. Throughout that whole year he had known in the back of his mind that she would never be his but had gone forging madly ahead with his doomed plan.

What he felt for Tamara had just as much passion fueling his desire but this time it was a passion he felt to be reciprocated. If she cared nothing for him she could have left him to his own devices but she had not. Not only had she helped him escape but she had returned above then returned of her own free will back down into his world. Thinking of all the perilous traps along the way he felt a tightening in his chest to even think of something happening to her.

Erik reached out in an involuntary protective motion to bring Tamara down across his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around her to bring her as close to his own body as he could. With her face so close he could not resist raising his mouth to cover hers. For a man who had little experience in such things Erik felt he must have been doing something right as he felt Tamara wiggle her hands free from where they had been trapped between them so she could touch his face.

His brain felt disoriented with so many things to process. She had shifted her body so that most of hers lay atop of his. He felt the fingers of both of her hands slid along his jaw then clench fistfuls of his hair. If that was an attempt to hold him captive it was a wasted effort as he had no intention of going anywhere. Even the pain burning into his flesh would not illicit any protests from him. As if she heard his thoughts she shifted to ease her weight to the side.

Erik pulled her back onto the top of him despite any discomfort he might be feeling. He'd walk through the fires of hell to have more moments like this. The closed mouth fusion of their lips suddenly seemed to ignite into an inferno when Erik felt her tongue gliding along his own mouth. With a groan he eagerly opened his mouth to her. This new sensation nearly set him afire with want. Much more of this and he felt certain their clothes would spontaneously combust.

Dragging his mouth reluctantly from Tamara's Erik drew in several deep breaths. Tamara remained atop him with her eyes closed. Her face had flushed from their exchanged passion and her lips were wet and swollen from his kisses. Having her under his complete control had been his goal before but now he found he wanted more. Now he wanted more than to merely possess her body.

What he sought now was a melding of his soul with hers. He did not want her blind capitulation because he had seduced her. He no longer wanted only to satisfy his fleshly yearnings. Only her coming to him without any manipulation of her senses would satisfy him now. She would either be his by her choice or he'd not have her at all. At the moment his injury and her concern for him might be influencing her response to him. Any intimacies they shared now would be tainted by his doubts. He could wait until he recovered before letting their relationship go any further. Never would he have imagined he would be the one to back away from a willing woman's advances. The next week or so would test his resolve. Tamara would prove to be a somewhat aggressive woman once her emotions and passions had been awakened.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

**Manhunt**

Erik had not needed to try to come up with a reasonable excuse not to continue with his seduction of Tamara. His wounds had reminded him quite painfully that he was not in the best physical condition to pursue such vigorous activities. well on second thought he could manage but would not for various reasons he would examine more closely later. When he had groaned from real pain, immediately Tamara had scampered off him then removed herself from the bed altogether to look down at him with sympathetic and guilty eyes. She had leaned down wiping at his sweating forehead with her cool hand. Her crooning soft nonsensical words one might say to an ill child did not irritate him as one might think. It did bother him slightly that she felt guilt for having hurt him but not so much as to confess the pain had not been so great as to curtail their intimate moment. That admission would have opened the door to questions he did not feel up to answering.

Neither of them referred to the passionate kisses they had shared although the tension kept brewing just below the surface ready to erupt at any moment. It did seem to Erik that Tamara lingered over her ministrations when she changed his bandages or wiped down his back as he lie on his side. A sheet had been the only thing protecting his modesty or perhaps it had been what protected Tamara's sensibilities more so than his own. Every time she had need to touch him he found that he liked the fact that her eyes seemed to devour the parts of him that were exposed.

Being a grown man it could be expected that he might resent having to depend on someone, a woman at that, to tend to his every need. On the contrary Erik found he quite liked being waited on and catered to in this way. Of course using the facilities raised a very embarrassing issue other than the bathing aspect. To save face Erik had managed to leave the bed after much discomfort on his part. He would not hear of Tamara bringing a pot to the bed for him to use. Some things were better left a mystery between women and men and what went on in the privy he thought to be one of them. Sharing a bath, now that he had given much thought and consideration. He would not mind sharing his tub with Tamara in the least.

Tamara had gone back up above a couple of times before Erik's home had become a hive of activity with arriving visitors. Once it became known he had lived those concerned about him wanted to see with their own eyes how extensive his injuries were. His company suddenly became much in demand. Lillian and Antoinette had come hovering over him like mother hens, not that he really minded. Christine had come down timidly standing a few feet from his bed. He had disabused her of the notion that any of this had been her fault. Although it pained him to admit to any fault, this time he did so to relieve Christine's mind. He did not point out that Raoul had the majority of blame in this instance. Even what had happened before could be said to be the fault of de Chagny. It had been his plan after all that had forced the Phantom's hand.

Christine's second visit was more strained than the first. Oddly the two women eyed one another as two opponents might just before they began a battle. The room did seem to take on a chill whenever Tamara and Christine were in the room at the same time.

For once Tamara did not immediately leave the room to give him and his guest privacy. Oddly she found that his dresser and closet needed to be cleaned and arranged right away. A fresh pitcher of water had been set beside his bed on the nightstand. A chair had been brought for Christine to sit in although it had been placed rather far from his sickbed. An offer of refreshments had been grudgingly, not once but twice. His pillows had been plumped no less than four times in the last ten minutes. If she tucked his blankets in any tighter he might asphyxiate if he did not loosen them a smidge. If Tamara had planned to keep him distracted her plan could be counted as a raging success. When she came close to him an enticing fragrance wafted around him with heady allure. If not for Christine's presence he may just have said to hell with proper courtship and drag Tamara into his bed. If he was not mistaken Tamara looked as if she had changed her dress since this morning. Her hair smelled freshly washed. All in all she looked like a woman ready to go out to a rendezvous with her young man rather than attend a man in his sickbed in the bowels of the opera house.

He caught Christine giving Tamara a few sour looks which would have pleased him before his discovery that Tamara had come to mean more to him than a mere object of seduction. Glancing from one woman to the other Erik found them equally beautiful but for different reasons. A man could be forgiven for lusting after either or both of them. Searching deeply within he could honestly say Tamara held more appeal to the man he had become.

Tamara had the aura of mature grace while Christine projected an innocence that would likely always be present. Christine might always be somewhat naïve and therefore dependant on someone else for guidance whereas Tamara had an innocent look about her also but had a strong sense of her own worth. She would welcome aid if needed but could stand on her own if need be. She had not let him bully her into doing anything she did not think she ought to do.

Christine had kissed him twice with extreme passion but he had the notion that if he tried to act on that passion she would head for the hills. She much preferred Raoul's gallant deference to her wishes when it came to sharing intimacies. Erik would rather give free reign to his passions and had felt that Tamara wanted to unleash all restraint as well. When they did finally give in to their passion heaven knows if Paris would still be standing in the aftermath of such a fiery exchange.

Erik patted himself on the back for remaining calm during Christine's visit. He blessed the powers that be for releasing him from any remaining desires he had for her both physically and emotionally. Now when he looked into her soft brown eyes all he saw was a sweet, innocent and slightly childish young woman who may or may not ever grow to be the woman she should be. In any case she had ceased to be of any concern for him other than that he still cared about her as his onetime pupil and for all the years they had been angel to angel, she his Angel of Music and he her Angel of Music. Perhaps music had been all they really shared in the end. Anything more had been his own pitiful yearnings and imaginings.

Christine had gathered her courage to draw nearer to the bed so she could place a kiss on his cheek. It had surprised him she still thought him worthy of her affections. A loud crash coming from the doorway had Christine shooting straight up as if a rocket had been set off underneath her skirts.

"Oh pardon me for giving you a fright. I thought you might like a cup of tea. The…the tray…it…it slipped." Tamara could not look either of them in the eye as she told such a blatant lie. True enough she had been carrying a tray with a pot of tea and cups but it had been more an excuse to interrupt what she saw as an intimate conversation between Erik and Christine. She had not dropped the tray so much as tossed it to the floor. What woman would care to see the man she had some romantic feelings toward being kissed by another woman, one she might add who had been involved with him in the past?

When Tamara dared to raise her eyes to look at Erik the darn man had such a self-satisfied look on his face that at that moment if they were alone she just might have slapped his handsome face. As he continued to train his gaze on her Tamara began to squirm as his eyes heated with desire instead of being only pleasantly content. When Christine bade Erik goodnight and he did not even so much as glance in her direction Tamara felt her face flush. Whether with desire or embarrassment, it was hard for her to determine with Erik's continued blatant ignoring of Christine or anything else around them.

"Mademoiselle Stern? Tamara!" Christine had at first been mildly irritated with this turn of events but as the two people occupying the same room with her ceased to acknowledge her presence she felt it time to remind them that there was a third party in the room.

Tamara blinked several times. At last being released from Erik's near hypnotic effect on her she turned toward Christine. She had to say that Christine's irritation clearly displayed on her face did give her some satisfaction. For all Christine's declarations that she had no romantic feelings for Erik anyone with eyes could see that she did feel something more than mere gratitude for his teaching her to sing or for any kindness he had shown her over the years as she grew up. Womanly desires toward Erik and jealousy were what had caused Christine's flushed cheeks.

"Uh…Yes?" Tamara could not collect her thoughts quickly enough to form an intelligent response so settled for saying as little as possible. If Erik did not look so darn appealing with the sheet just barely covering his manly chest she might have been able to dredge up more anger toward him. Really it wasn't his fault Christine felt it necessary to manhandle him while he lie helpless in bed. The man exuded such appeal what woman of an age to notice male attractions could withstand Erik?

Taking notice that Christine's eyes had traveled down from Erik's chest Tamara pointedly drew the sheet up to his armpits then tucked them in. When Erik scowled she relented and loosened them just a bit.

Christine did not like this intimate familiarity between Erik and Tamara but could not openly object to it so she hurriedly declared "I wish to return and I don't think I know the way sufficiently to return on my own."

Christine stated this blatant lie without so much as a guilty blink of her eyes. She knew the way as she had come down on her own using the directions Erik had provided for Antoinette and Lillian's visit below. Not once but two times in the last week. Having noticed Tamara's fascination with Erik Christine felt a timely reminder of just who and what Erik was would be in order. Tamara had let herself become enamored with Erik's seductive persona. Christine knew all too well how tempting he could be. If Christine deluded herself that her only concern was for a fellow woman in danger of falling under Erik's spell who was there to call her on the deception?

The last thing Tamara wanted at the moment was to spend time away from Erik and even less did she want to spend it with Christine. Just days ago Christine had seemed very likeable yet now her very presence made Tamara's skin itch. Perhaps she had some perfume on today which caused an allergic reaction on Tamara's skin. Whatever this sudden irritation had been triggered by it did not matter as even Christine's voice caused Tamara's ears to have an almost physical pain.

Just when Tamara needed Erik to be selfish and clingy he assured her that he would be just fine for no longer than it would take her to show Christine the way back and then she might as well visit with Lillian. Grudgingly the two left Erik's home expecting to make the long trek in silence. For the first ten minutes or so neither spoke a word. The silence had nothing companionable about it. Not being able to stand it any longer Christine spoke first. Touching Tamara on the upper arm Christine said, "Please stop for a moment. I wish to speak with you."

Tamara wished to speak with Christine as well but hesitated doing so as her tongue may get away from her. Once words were said they may be regretted but were imprinted in the minds of anyone hearing them. They could not be unsaid. Forgiven, yes, forgotten no.

"Alright, if we must have this discussion let us air all our differences. To start with what are your intentions toward Erik?" There. It was out in the open, the question that had burned in Tamara's mind ever since Christine's appearance in the opera house. Tamara held her lantern higher and closer to Christine's face. She wished to see every change in the woman's face so she might be able to access just how truthful Christine was being with her.

"Tamara I will not lie. I feel something more than just affection or admiration for Erik. I have never been able to sort out just what it is that is between Erik and I. Do I feel attraction for him? Yes. I cannot deny what he makes me feel. Is it greater than what I feel for Raoul? No. What is in my heart for Raoul is something no mere words can describe with any accuracy. Too many emotions make up our relationship. For Erik and I it has always been our music which connected us then as time passed another element began to emerge. Desire, attraction and love, all of those in small parts were just beginning to bloom when Raoul came back into my life." She paused to consider carefully her next words.

"So much changed for me the year Raoul returned. Erik, or as he was known to me then, Angel of Music, well he had just begun to show how he felt for me. I felt so conflicted by what I felt for them both. In many ways what was in my heart for them seemed to be the same. I suppose it was Erik's monstrous acts that eventually turned me from him. If he had not gone quite so mad perhaps things would have been different. You can't imagine how hard it was for me to lose him. He had been in my life as a guiding force for such a long time. To have him suddenly taken from my life left me feeling bereft. In my heart I knew nothing can ever come of what we once felt and truly I don't wish to enter into any of that as it would only hurt the man I love more than my own life."

Christine lowered her lantern so she could place both hands on Tamara's upper arms. Looking her in the eye with great sincerity she said, "Tamara I know how you feel for Erik and I saw for myself he feels something for you. To my shame I let my jealousy cloud how I spoke to you earlier. Please forgive me. It is not my intention to alienate you or come between you and Erik. I may still have those moments where I think Erik should be only mine but I want so badly for him to find someone who will love him and who will be loved by him in return. I think in you he has found that person."

Well this was a let down after being geared up for a fight. Feeling somewhat deflated Tamara also knew she needed to respond to what Christine had said. It wasn't easy to let go of her own jealousy and resentment. Having a full head of steam with no place to expend it did give one a bit of a headache and burning sensation in the pit of your stomach.

"Christine, as long as we are being honest, do you mind if I ask you something?" So many questions jockey to be the first one posed it was hard to decide but she settled on the one pressing at the moment when Christine gave her consent to be asked whatever Tamara wanted to know.

"When you and Erik…well did you ever…I mean everyone says the sexual tension between the two of you on stage could have lit the fire that burned the opera house down so…well putting it as gently as I can did you and Erik share more than what went on that night during your performance? To put it bluntly, have the two of you been intimate in any way?" Tamara's shoulders slumped in relief to have gotten the words out after thinking she would be mired in a quagmire of hemming and hawing.

Now she awaited a reply from a woman who looked as if she had been shocked into permanent speechlessness. Maybe she would need a good shaking to bring her back from what ailed her. One minute more and Tamara would be doing more than shoving Christine to the ground. She wanted to know if Erik and Christine had been lovers and she wanted to know now.

**A/N: Am I too evil to leave a cliffhanger like this? I tried to post this for the last two days but wouldn't let me. So here it is now. Please leave a review. **


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

**Heart to Heart**

"Intimate?" Christine asked in shock. Her face burned not because she and Erik had shared anything more than those two kisses but more because she had given a lot of consideration to return to her Angel and find out just what had been the source of all those churning emotions she had felt toward the man who had pretended to be her Angel of Music.

Having put her own lantern down when Christine had, Tamara couldn't see Christine's flushed features clearly but when her head dropped down to her chest surely that indicated more than those emotions on stage had been explored between Christine and Erik. Once again Tamara felt distaste for the woman standing so close to her it felt as if the woman stole the very air needed to breath. An almost uncontrollable urge to shove Christine to the ground came to mind. She conquered that urge just as her hands were rising to heed the unconscious command to do so. Before her good sense could desert her once again Tamara drew her hands behind her back out of harms way. She stared back at Christine waiting for a reply. She may not want to physically harm her but that didn't mean she had changed her mind about wanting an answer to her question.

Playing for time Christine glanced down at the floor. The stones looked dry and while dirty did not seem wet and slimy so she sank down. This explanation might take a while. Once Tamara joined her on the floor hesitantly she began to tell all that had gone on between her and Erik. Speaking as honestly as she could nothing was glossed over nor left out. If Tamara thought some of her explanations were too vague Christine found her listener was not above prompting further explanations or posing pertinent and pointed questions. By the end of her recitation Christine felt drained as well as having the notion that this purging had been a long time in coming. Always she had to walk on pins and needles with everyone lest they suspect her of regretting her choices, especially Raoul.

She could see now that while Erik could be romantic and charismatic he could also be deceptive, overbearing and very possessive. Only one of those qualities could be used to describe Raoul. Raoul had always been and still was a romantic. Erik would have driven her to madness just as she had driven him to madness for different reasons. Not being a strong personality she would have been overwhelmed by Erik and become a mere shadow bending to his will. Raoul challenged her to be her own woman while he stood his ground at times letting her know he would not compromise his principles for her or anyone else. He let her have the same privilege disregarding what his family or society thought on the matter. In all things they were equal partners. If she let him feel more in control for the sake of his manhood who did it hurt? By Raoul letting her freely express her opinions he freed her to be a stronger woman.

"So Christine what you are saying in essence is that there is some connection between you and Erik because of your past but nothing romantic on your part."

"An hour ago I would have argued the point. Now I feel as if a weight has been lifted or a dark cloud that hung over me has been blown away revealing a bright sun. I hope you don't mind me saying something personal."

"Well considering how you just spilled every detail of the last thirteen or so years of your life I think you are entitled to speak freely." Tamara felt so much relief that Christine no longer hankered after Erik she would have said or done just about anything while in this euphoric moment.

"If I am out of line I apologize but it seems to me as if you feel…something for Erik, something…more than mere friendship. It feels so strange to speak of Erik in terms of friendship or any other sort of relationship."

"Oh, I don't know. He can be very personable when he tries." Tamara felt eager now to talk about her feelings with someone who shared a genuine liking for him without it being anything more.

"What will you do now?" Christine didn't feel as if she were prying. Tamara had begun this exchange.

"Do? What do you mean what will I do?" Tamara had a good idea as to what Christine referred to but played for time so she could think how to reply.

"Well if I must be blunt, are you going to…well you know? I am not completely blind. I have seen how the two of you look at one another. It is the way hungry dogs look at a tasty meal." For a moment she thought she had gone to far until Tamara burst out laughing.

"Oh gracious me, so now I am a meal for hungry dogs or is it Erik who is the meal and I the dog? How flattering or at least I will take it in that vein. It does please me to know he looks at me the way I look at him, although I had thought I hid my interest pretty well."

"Well I am not versed in how to describe such emotions but I do know their meaning. Raoul gets that same look on occasion. I have to say those nights are very exciting." Christine could not believe she and Tamara were now speaking of encounters between men and women, Raoul and herself to be precise and her and Erik.

Tamara let her imagination run away with her for a few seconds. His regard then had not been only in her imagination. He felt something for her. Now she must decide what she would do with that information. Dare she do as Christine suggested? Not being experienced did not mean an unwillingness to explore ones sexuality. Those intense shared kisses earlier had proven that point. Her Grandmother Lily would pretend outrage that her granddaughter even let such thoughts in her head all the while wanting to give advice on how to bring about the union.

Couples anticipated their nuptials all the time. At this point Tamara tried to rein her thoughts in. Erik may feel an attraction for her but that didn't mean he would be asking her to walk down any church aisle in the future. Could she settle for that sort of relationship? If it meant not experiencing Erik at all then yes, she would take what he allowed then let him go without clinging or begging for more. A lot of people had far less to carry on with them into their twilight years.

Christine watched as the emotions crossed her companions face. This decision had been Christine's to make not so long ago. When Raoul had first taken her away from the opera house madness they had let their emotions go too far one night. It had not been Raoul to throw caution to the wind and give in to lustful longings. It had been his shy, inexperienced Little Lotte luring him into shedding his gentlemanly reticence.

Thinking back it may have been that week she spent away with Raoul that toppled poor Erik over the edge. She had not been able to hide what had happened from her mother or Meg. Luckily Raoul had proposed and given her an engagement ring or he may have come away with parts missing. As it was he nearly lost his life. Thoughts of what Erik was capable of brought her back to Tamara and her situation. Erik had not seemed to be in a crazed state of mind. He spoke lucidly. If Lillian trusted him with her own flesh and blood then who was she, a mere former student, to object and make judgments?

"We should go but before we do I will tell you this. Whatever Erik is willing to give to me I will take and count myself lucky. For whatever reason my heart has chosen for me and I can do nothing other than follow where it leads me. I do thank you for easing my mind. Erik I think is a hard person to forget. You are lucky to have Raoul." That last statement was as much for Christine's benefit as well as for her own. It was as close to an admission of jealousy as she could muster.

Tamara remembered where to find the mechanism just as Erik had told her it would be and it looked just like he had said it would. Among the other small stones surrounding the frame of this side of the mirror it looked like another stone. Cleverly he had made the third stone down and second on the left a false stone which opened the mirror, not with a push as one might suspect but one had to pull it out then turn it slightly. Very clever indeed was this genius of hers. She liked thinking of Erik in terms of belonging to her.

Christine and Tamara thought it best to find Antoinette and Lillian to let them know both Tamara and Erik were alright. They would split up then meet in the dining hall for a soothing cup of tea before Tamara would return to tend to Erik.

Tamara dreamily strolled down corridor after corridor not caring where her feet took her. Her head was filled with Erik and what might or might not happen if Erik felt well enough. If his injuries precluded him from vigorous activities then they could simply lie side by side enjoying being close to one another.

Rutherford's voice coming from behind her interrupted her pleasant planning. When she would have turned to him so she could make some excuse as to why she could not stop and talk to him she felt a hand clamp over her mouth. In the hand was a cloth wet with some sweet smelling substance which made her woozy and then finally took her away on a cloud into unconsciousness.

Scooping her up Rutherford looked behind him. No one had seen him and Tamara had cooperated and not put up any fight whatsoever. Not a peep had passed her luscious lips. He couldn't stand about resting on his laurels. At any moment someone could come down either end of this corridor. Raoul had seen to it that the resident ghost would not be aiding and abetting anyone. If Tamara had lowered herself to consider that man depraved and marked by the devil as fit to touch her then surely she would welcome him, a man of position in society and not of meager means. Once he married he would have not only have his own fortune to control as stipulated by the codicil to his father's will but he would also have Tamara's much larger fortune to do with as he pleased.

As he approached the side door his driver and a couple of men he had hired for just this eventuality helped him situate his burden in the carriage waiting at the side of the building. Less traffic came down this alley so it had seemed to be the best place to remove his target. He had of course not counted on Raoul's planning to capture Christine's infamous Angel of Music. He bet that little trollop had a story to tell. Had she not danced with the man as if he were an invited guest? Someone who would be accepted like anyone else? He would not group Tamara in with all those gullible females who had aided and abetted this criminal. She must have been under some sort of drugged spell to allow that man to lay his hands on her.

When she awoke she might even be grateful to be taken out from under the fiend's control. It didn't matter. Either way By tomorrow night he would have procured the legal papers he needed to make Tamara his bride. Soon after that exchange he would be enjoying the charms of his new bride whether she wished it or not. Perhaps he would write a letter and send it to the opera house in care of Antoinette Giry so she might deliver it to her employer, this unholy Phantom everyone seemed so frightened of.

With his paid henchmen around him and a gun and sword close at hand Rutherford felt confident he would win if he should have occasion to meet this Phantom. Perhaps he overestimated his skills or perhaps it was the love a once infamous Opera Ghost felt for his lady love. Whoever Rutherford faced when it came time to pay the piper, Opera Ghost or Phantom, one could bank on the fact that Erik, the ladies amour would not be far behind.

**A/N: Oh no. Poor Tamara. Erik will sure be p.o'd when he learns of this. Read and review my loyal readers. Not far from the end.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-one**

**Never Mess With the Phantom**

Lillian sat alone in her room waiting for word from Tamara. Everyone had waited for Christine's return but when Raoul began to pace about angrily Antoinette had suggested they all go to their rooms to wait. When either Christine or Tamara returned whoever spoke with them first would then contact the others. It had been over two hours since Christine had gone below against Raoul's wishes. Who could blame him for worrying about his wife given her former association with Erik?

Erik. Lillian quite liked his name. Of course they would have need to find him a surname especially if he and Tamara…Well best not count chickens before they hatched. Tamara had indicated she and Erik were if not lovers then on the road to some sort of romantic understanding. The way that girl had hemmed and hawed about their relationship it had been a wonder anyone could make heads or tales of it. Years of knowing her granddaughter and her quirks gave Lillian insight the others did not have. Tamara had fallen for Erik more than she cared to admit. It may be too soon to declare what she felt as love but not too soon to declare them to be in lust.

Lillian nearly giggled just thinking about what this would mean. Tamara at last would know what it felt like to love and be loved for what man could not love her beautiful and smart granddaughter? Erik may hesitate to make any such outright claims to such a binding commitment given his past but a while in Tamara's company should change that. Her granddaughter was just as she had been as a young girl, barring the independent outspokenness. What they did have in common was how they loved. Once their hearts were pledged even death did not remove the emotional ties completely. Her own husband still held her heart shackled but now she felt that once Tamara's life had been settled some gentleman may come along who could prove to be pleasant company. Enough years with a lonely bed had passed and her youth had been slipping by at a greater speed than she cared to think about.

Glancing at the clock Lillian felt a shiver of unease ripple down her spine. By now both Christine and Tamara should have returned or at least Christine should have. Tamara may have opted to not come back just yet as Erik still needed attention. Christine's visit had been made out of jealousy in her opinion. The young girl found it hard to let go of a man who she had idolized for so much of her youth. If she did not think of him as a father figure or brother it stood to reason she would have come to think of him romantically as he cut a fine figure when he chose to be civil. Even with his costume this evening one could tell he was a man among men. Any number of female eyes had followed his every move and he had not spoken a word.

Feeling antsy gave her the impetuous to leave the room so the others could be found and share her worry or talk her out of it. First Tamara's room should be checked just in case she had returned. Surely if she had they would have been told. Tamara would know how worried everyone would be. Tamara's room had not been slept in for a few days. Everything was just as it had been the night of the Bal Masque. Next came Antoinette's room. Loud voices could be heard even before she stood in front of the door. Knocking loudly brought silence from within then the door angrily opened to have Raoul returning her look of surprise. His face was flushed and his hair had been mussed by anxious fingers combing through it.

Christine sat in a chair wringing her hands together while Antoinette and Meg hovered over her. Not waiting for an invitation Lillian brushed by Raoul to ask Christine worriedly, "Where is Tamara? Did she decide to come up later? She was supposed to return so she could give me a full report on how things are with…" Lillian paused glancing at the now pacing Raoul. It might be best not to mention Erik outright as Raoul seemed to be in a state already.

"She was going to tell me how things are going below." Lillian pointed her finger down toward the floor as if that would clarify what she meant. Of course they all knew just what or rather who she spoke about.

"Things are better. But I don't understand. Tamara came back with me. She went to find you. I imagine she would have checked your room first. Are you saying she has not found you?" Christine's brow furrowed as she tried to think what Tamara had said exactly. Yes, her intention had been to find Lillian.

On the one hand Lillian felt relief that her trust in Erik had not been found faulty while on the other Tamara had now gone missing with no explanation as to where she could be and why. Being a responsible caring person Tamara would not leave her grandmother to worry. This Lillian knew for certain. If Tamara could not be found within the next few minutes that meant someone had taken her.

"Christine when you left Tamara did you see anyone else around? Did she indicate where she might go if she did not find me?" By now Lillian felt so panicked she could hardly think but knew she had to gain control of her emotions if she was to help Tamara.

"No, I can't remember anyone being around. In fact the hallways were oddly clear for this time of day. Other than finding you she did not indicate where she might go after that. Has something happened?"

"Christine, have you forgotten? Today is everyone's day off. No rehearsals and no performances. Half the opera house is out roaming around Paris or visiting friends and family," Antoinette chimed in. She felt Tamara's absence had come at this particular time as all too convenient. It would take too long to track everyone who worked in the opera house. By the time they found everyone and questioned them if someone did have Tamara they could have her out of the country before anyone figured out where to look for her.

"Oh dear me this is terrible. Tamara is not the sort to just take off without letting me know what she is doing and where she is going. Even when she followed you know who she made sure to come back so she could relieve my mind. Something has happened to her. Someone has done something to prevent her from coming to me. Gracious me. What will you know who think and do?" Lillian did not say his name so as not to agitate Raoul again. He seemed to have calmed now that another problem claimed his mind.

"Who would benefit from Tamara's absence and who would wish to remove her from her home? If she is not a woman who follows whims then logically her disappearance is due to being forced to leave or lured away with some convincing reason." Raoul felt his instincts rising for investigation. Problems of others he could solve as his brain would not be distracted by his emotional attachment.

"David, her assistant," Lillian nearly shouted then sought to clarify herself just in case everyone misinterpreted what she meant.

"What I mean is we should ask David. He knows her almost as well as I do. He may have some insight into her disappearance."

"Well then what are we waiting for? I shall send for our carriage." Pausing a moment Raoul then stated, "Better yet I shall send for a cab. Less time wasted as our carriage will not be readied. Yes we shall take a cab."

"Mother would it not be more advantageous for someone to continue to look around the building? Christine and I could do that while Raoul and Lillian pay a visit to this David person," Meg asked hoping to be of some use other than sitting on a bench inside of a cab.

"An excellent idea Meg. That way we can cover more ground. Let us meet back here say, in two hours? We should all have finished our assigned tasks by then and be ready to share information."

Antoinette felt relieved someone other than herself had taken control. That it should be Raoul did seem ironic. He would aid in the search for a woman to send back to Erik while he had worked diligently to take Christine from him.

Antoinette volunteered to be the one to break the news to Erik. Lillian should be the one to speak with Tamara's assistant. First she would only tell Erik Tamara had been delayed with opera house business until David could be questioned. Erik need not know of Tamara's disappearance until absolutely necessary. That particular visit she would not relish one bit. Erik had thus far been congenial but then he had been recuperating from injuries and feeling content under Tamara's loving hand. If someone had taken Tamara only God knew what the man would do.

As they parted Antoinette used the shortest route to reach Erik's home. The mirror in Tamara's room seemed the likeliest choice. The long journey down could be used to gain insight into just how to phrase what she wished to say. Erik could read her very well and always knew when she tried to keep something from him. With little hope of being successful nonetheless she would make the effort for Erik's safety as well as everyone else's. Erik and anger did not mix well. Add to that someone he cared about could be in danger and who knew what might happen. History would not be repeated if Erik had to be hogtied.

When the stairs were reached Antoinette took three flights down then opened the passage Erik had told her about. Going this way one avoided all the many traps on the floors below. Anything above the third floor was fairly safe from dangerous traps. Those traps on the upper floors were more for nuisance value and to discourage anyone for going further down. Once she stood on the last landing just outside the passage at the bottom of the stairs the rippling water reminded her how much she hated getting wet in this manner. If time had not been of the essence she could have taken the route that would have led her directly to Erik's living room. Bracing herself for that first cold wetness of the lake she lowered herself down into the green murky water. She could see the reflected light from all the candles and lamplight coming from Erik's home.

Nothing short of genius could have made this inhospitable domain comfortable for any extended length of time. Erik being of a generous intelligence had succeeded where others might have failed. That same penchant of intelligence led to destructive avenues when he lost his way as he had when he had fixated on Christine. Before there had been no one to compare Christine's relationship with Erik, now there was Tamara. From the beginning Tamara had stood up to Erik and asked for him to relate to her as a normal man. If he had not been so sure she would not have anything to do with him once everything about him had been revealed perhaps all of this could have been avoided. Christine had not helped by continuing her infatuation with Erik. It seemed she and Tamara may have had a heart to heart talk and straightened things out. Before Lillian had come in, the two had been finally getting to the crux of Raoul's continued objections to Christine even speaking to Erik and Christine's strong desire to do just that.

Christine had admitted to having been having some lingering emotions for Erik but had beseeched Raoul to believe that finally she had seen what she felt for what it was. A girls infatuation with the first and only man in her life until some Prince Charming came along to open her eyes and whisk her away from the darkness and into the light. Antoinette thought Christine had used her acting skills to advantage as she put so much conviction in her voice as well as brought about a few tears. Raoul had been pacing about trying to hold off immediately giving in to Christine's tears. He had his manly pride to assuage after all. Being a kind and thoughtful man he had been on the verge of accepting Christine's heartfelt apologies when Lillian had come in with worrying information about Tamara. Maybe it would not hurt for Christine to be the one to wait this time to find out if she still had the affection and admiration of her lover.

Without Christine to come between Erik and Tamara perhaps the two could now take things slowly as there would be no obstacles at least once they found Tamara and brought her back things could progress.

"Antoinette do not stand about trying to decide if you should come tell whatever bad news you have for me. I promise I am too weak to wring your lovely neck if I was disposed to do so which strangely I am not." Erik's voice reverberated across the water to Antoinette. She nearly jumped back in the water to hear a sudden booming voice where no body could be seen. Looking about her she could not see him anywhere. This ability of his to hide and not be seen had always unnerved her.

A touch of a hand on her shoulder nearly stopped her heart in mid-beat. In angry relief she nearly shouted, "Erik how often have I told you not to sneak up on me? One day I swear you will give me a heart attack and I will then be the ghost and I promise I will haunt you until your dying day."

"Reason enough for me to discontinue my entertaining habit of sneaking up on you from time to time. It keeps me in practice so perhaps I may use it on the opera house staff. Now, enough of pleasantries. I assume you have come to deliver the news that Tamara has decided I am too despicable and horrid looking for her gentile soul." He would not let her see how anxious he had been for Tamara's return. As the hours passed and she had not come back his mind conjured all manner of reasons for her delay. Everything from something simple to the most terrible of thoughts had raced through his mind. He had shorn up his defenses as best he could so that when the killing blow landed he might deflect it just enough so he could survive, although to what purpose he could not imagine. He could not and would not go back to living alone. If he had to let the outside world know of him so that they destroyed him then so be it. He would be ready to die.

Reading the anguish Erik tried so hard to hide tore down Antoinette's defenses. She could not tell him some lie so he could be controlled. It would kill him if he went on believing Tamara did not care. She couldn't do it. She would tell him the truth and let things progress as they would. Erik had just admitted he was weak. What sort of harm could he do in this state?

"Erik please forgive me for once again trying to deceive you. It was not my intention for you to be hurt. We all just thought it would be best if you were not given the information that Tamara may have been taken against her will."

Antoinette waited for the explosion sure to come and did not have long to wait. In a flash that belied his professed weakness Erik had her by the shoulders and began shaking her as he demanded, "Where is she? Who has taken her? I shall find them and kill them. If she is harmed in any way I will not be merciful."

Placing her hands on his arms she shouted just as loudly, "Erik stop this at once. You need to have your wits about you. Do not let your Phantom persona impede your faculties. We need your clever mind if we are to find her."

Inhaling deeply Erik ceased his shaking of Antoinette. She could have been a rag doll for all he cared in his moment of anger and panic. He knew all too well what a crazed person is capable of when the mind is filled with feverish imaginings that have nothing of reality in them. He turned away so he could collect himself as well as hide just how much this affected him. His body reminded him that he had serious injuries that needed time to heal and jerking about would not lead to that end. Collapsing in a chair Erik massaged his leg and reached around to rub at the bandage covering his wound. His arm felt no better.

Gesturing toward another chair he asked Antoinette to take a seat. Control of his emotions would serve him better just now than letting lose his anger. It would only serve to alienate the one person he needed most at the moment. If he was to go above and speak with the others Antoinette would need to prepare them and reassure them he would do them no harm. Only Tamara's kidnapper had cause to worry.

"Please Antoinette, forgive me. Tell me what you know. I promise I will listen without any demonstrations of violence." Erik hoped he could keep to his word but felt anger mixed with fear just underneath the surface. He had never felt fear for another's safety before. He had cared about Christine's wellbeing but had never had reason to fear for her safety other than from his own madness.

"I don't know much. She and Christine had gone back up as you know. They separated so Tamara could find Lillian and Christine went to find Raoul. He was still in my room. Lillian came to us only a few minutes after Christine had returned looking for Tamara. Naturally we were confused then concerned."

Erik stood up and began to pace. His mind worked better if he could move around. Ignoring the pain did not make it go away but made it bearable. Sifting through what he knew of Tamara he discounted her leaving with a man for some illicit rendezvous. Despite earlier believing she had chosen not to return now that he had calmed that did not seem likely. He may not know much about Tamara or women in general but he knew with absolute certainty she had felt more than some passing fancy for him. A woman of Tamara's caliber did not take those sort of exchanges lightly. If she laid with a man exchanging what they had exchanged she would have to feel something deeper than mere curiosity or expediency to gain a moments pleasure.

A woman did not take the risk she had unless her emotions were involved. If Tamara did not love him she at least cared a great deal. For the chance to find out if it would go deeper and turn to love Erik felt he would be willing to do anything. He would use rational thought to bring Tamara back if she indeed needed to be rescued from some unknown assailant. They had not found a body, so that left the door open for hope. Even that thought of what may or may not be happening was almost enough for him to storm out tearing the opera house and all of Paris apart until he found Tamara.

A list formed in Erik's mind of all the people Tamara came into contact with during her time in Paris. One by one they were eliminated until he came to Rutherford. He did not know the man but what he had seen he had not liked. Trying to be objective Erik set aside his dislike and the fact that Rutherford had some emotional attachment to Tamara. From what he had observed Tamara had not even liked the man much. Her distaste had been written clearly on her face. At the time he saw them leaving the opera house he had felt too jealous to think clearly. Now he brought forth the memory and examined it carefully.

"This Rutherford fellow that Tamara knows was he still in the opera house when Tamara and Christine returned? Was he waiting in the room with you and Raoul?" Erik continued to pace with his hands behind his back. As his thoughts raced his pacing increased in speed around the room.

"Erik please stop this incessant pacing. You are making me dizzy. This Rutherford fellow you speak of left the room shortly after everyone gathered to decide what must be done the night of the Bal Masque. He did not stay long. He came the next day and when he was told Tamara had returned above for a while then returned below he did seem upset but made no comment. He hasn't been back since, at least as far as I know."

Erik knew from the bottom of his soul Tamara had been taken by this man Rutherford. In slightly different circumstances Erik had done the same thing. The main difference being Christine had not hated her captor whereas Tamara had looked as if she hardly tolerated the man who wanted to win her hand. Waiting for something to happen had been a part of Erik's games. He would wait for a short time only. If everyone returned and still there was no trace of Tamara or word from her he knew just where he would be searching for his lady love. Love, he admitted it defiantly to himself. He loved her and planned to tell her so at the first opportunity. People were only given so many chances to do the things they should or say what needed to be said. He'd not let another day pass without telling Tamara in the plainest terms possible how he felt. If she did not feel the same then at least he failed having put forth an effort. In silence he would lose even if she did care.

The next few hours would be a hell Erik never wished to repeat. He would be brought to the brink of madness once more. His future depended on the outcome that would be counted down by the slow ticking of seconds of the clock hands. His life would come down to being measured in mere seconds.

**A/N: Excitement just around the next turn. Read and please review. I thank each and every one of you who do take the extra monute it takes to leave me a few short words of encouragement.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-two**

**Terror in the Night**

Woozily Tamara began to come to her senses. Her head felt as if it would float away at any moment. Someone wiped at her face with a wet cloth. Rather clumsily she might add as water trickled uncomfortably down her neck to come to rest at the collar of her dress. Trying to remember what happened and where she might be brought on a uncomfortable pain to her head. Thinking, it seemed, would not be tolerated just yet. Clearing her mind she let herself drift along a slow moving tide of flashes from what she assumed had to be resent occurrences. It did not feel as if she had been unconscious for a great length of time. She groaned as the hand wiping at her face pressed too hard at her temple.

"Well I am glad to see you are coming around. You had me worried. Those oafs I hired were not as careful with you as they should have been. I most humbly apologize for the bump you received by their negligence."

Not knowing why Tamara felt a shaft of fear go through her. The voice of Rutherford usually only brought on distaste or aggravation but not fear. A sudden insight into what had happened brought her fully awake and trying to sit up. Feeling something tugging at her wrists she turned her head from side to side trying to see what bound her wrists. Lifting her head slightly she could see strips of cloth wound around several times adding strength to an otherwise weaker restraint.

Rutherford followed Tamara's gaze to the restraints. With false regret he said, "I am so sorry for such crude behavior but I do feel the restraints are a necessity. If I had given this more thought I could have planned things better but one must make do with what one has. I am sure the hotel will want to charge me for damaging their sheets. As I said I had little time to plan just what I would do. I had to rush things since you insisted on aiding and abetting that freakish criminal."

"Erik is not freakish. If you wish to see someone of a freakish nature you only have to look in a mirror." Angrily she pulled with all her might only resulting in further bruising at her wrists.

Picking up Tamara's hand Rutherford tsked and smiled without one iota of true warmth as he said, "I do regret your lovely skin being marked so. Under the circumstances I am willing to forgive your insults to my character. Given time perhaps you will come to see that by marrying me I rescued you from your insanity."

"Forgive me? Why you pompous, self-involved…" Just then all of what he said sank in. Bewildered she asked, "Marry me? You said I am to marry you? You have lost your mind. I shall never consent to marrying you. Not as long as I am in control of my faculties."

Rutherford pulled a chair closer then hitched his pant legs up so he could seat himself upon the chair facing Tamara. Pulling at his cuffs he calmly and matter-of-factly said, "Oh but you will my dear Tamara. It is all arranged. You more than anyone should know just how much power money has and placed in the correct palm it can open doors closed to normal society. Things can be done quickly and without questioning the legalities if the right amount gets placed in the right hand. Fortunately I am well versed in both those areas."

Leaning forward he braced his elbows on his knees as he shook his head with mock regret, "I am so sorry my poor dear but in oh…" He paused to pull out his pocket watch then continued, "In a few hours you and I shall be man and wife. It is all arranged. Whether you give the appropriate replies or not the papers are already drawn up and signed by the appropriate authorities. All that will be required is my signature and yours. Alas I cannot trust you to do what I want so a competent forger has been hired. He and the clergyman should arrive together. I sent the same cab to pick both of them up and deliver them here. Soon you will be my blushing bride and I shall have all that being your husband entails."

"This is insane. You are insane. My grandmother will not believe any of this. She knows me too well and knows how I feel about you. She'll not let you get away with this."

"But my dear, I have already gotten away with it. Once the papers are signed it will be a fait acompli. If you cause trouble you need not even be awake for the ceremony linking us together in holy matrimony. It does pay to know the right palms to place an appropriate number of coins in to get things done in a manner that some may not consider honorable or legal but one does what one must out of desperation."

"If it is money you want I can get as much as you want, just let me go. I swear I won't say a word to anyone."

"But my dear Tamara, why should I settle for a pittance when I can have it all along with your delectable body? Having you will be almost as wonderful as spending your money. Don't think I haven't noticed over the years how you have avoided me. You have always thought yourself above me but now I can show you that it is I who will come out on top and I do not mean that in a crude way but it is apt isn't it? I will have your vast fortune as well as having the honor of implanting my much more noble seed in you. Father would have been so pleased with me for once."

"Rutherford, please. Think of what you are doing. No matter what you do I won't consent to marrying you. As for you father he would be appalled the level you have sunk to further your own agenda."

"This is a prime example of your inability to hear anyone but your own voice. Did I not tell you I don't need for you to consent? I don't need any inane promise to love, honor or cherish me for as long as we both shall live. All I need is a signature on a piece of paper with the magistrates seal and no one will think to contest anything. I shall have you sequestered somewhere in the wilds of the English countryside first thing after the ceremony, which my dear will come bright and early. I do think we should get some sleep so that we look our best tomorrow, just because it isn't a love match that is no reason to neglect our appearance."

Tamara's heart sank as nothing she said got through to Rutherford. He had completely lost touch with reality or perhaps he had always been even more evil than she thought. The only hope she had now was that Erik and the others would be able to find some clue as to her whereabouts. Mentally she sent Erik messages to come for her. Without doubt her grandmother would bang the doors down of the authorities until someone came up with a clue as to who had her granddaughter. Hopefully it would not be too late once they learned who had taken her.

As the hours passed Erik could not settle to anything other than pacing about. He had promised to handle this without losing his head or going off without knowing just what had happened. His control of his emotions began to slip as the hands ticked off the minutes. After an hour the ticking of the clock seemed to sound so loud as to give his ears a physical pain.

To hell with waiting and wondering what was happening to Tamara while they played this nice game of waiting for clues to come to them rather than hunt down the culprit. Erik did not know with one hundred percent certainty who would have committed such a heinous act but he soon would and they would pay dearly if any harm had come to his…

At this point Erik slumped down onto a chair. Grabbing his chest to stave off the excruciating pain squeezing at his heart he now knew without any doubt just how much Tamara had come to mean to him. How had this happened? He had only been with her a handful of occasions and most of those were when he could only writhe in pain and feverish nightmares. Of course he had felt an attraction for her but this deep down wrenching of his soul could only be a love like no other. He dare not compare it to what he had felt for Christine as it may taint what he had with Tamara. Nothing had prepared him for this overwhelming sense of longing for her mere presence.

Not wanting to make a similar mistake with Tamara that he had made with Christine he sat still and thought deeply about every exchange between him and Tamara. Even during that first meeting she had not feared him nor rejected his less than appropriate caresses. She had not reviled him even though she might have been justified in doing so. When he had kissed her as she lie in his bed he clearly remembered that she responded and it had only been by his decision that things had not gone further. Her intention had been to return to him without any undue influence from him other than the promise of more intimacies to come upon her return. That had to prove her own feelings toward him. Tamara was not a woman to share such things without some sort of commitment in her heart. She had to…dare he think it? Dare he say it aloud?

"She loves me. Tamara loves me as I love her." Joyously he shouted it over and over until he could stand it no more. He had to find Lillian or Antoinette. They must come up with some plan to find Tamara sooner than later. Whatever had to be done he would do it even if it meant crawling on his hands and knees to Raoul de Chagny to get the wheels moving. Not a moment more could they afford to waste.

Running along the passages Erik's only thoughts were to reach the upper level as quickly as possible and find those who could help him. Now was not the time for anger at old enemies or showing pride where humility would serve him better. Reaching Tamara's mirror he looked in and saw just the people he needed. Now if he could enter without being skewered by that de Chagny boy things would work out. Using his talent for ventriloquism Erik sent his voice to Lillian's ear hoping his skills had not deserted him over the years. It had been a long time since he had needed to use this method of throwing his voice as a distraction or to frighten someone. In this case he only wanted to let Lillian know of his presence so she could pave the way for him to speak with the others without bloodshed.

"Lillian, it is me, Erik. I wish to join the search but do not want to come to blows with Raoul or his men. I have skills that they do not. I am willing to do things they could not even conceive of in their most horrid nightmares. Let Raoul and Christine know they have no need to fear me. They are of little concern to me."

Lillian had at first thought some real spirit had decided to pay her a visit. The voice in her ear sounded nothing like Erik at first. It had sounded raspy and not at all like his melodious tones when he spoke. Perhaps ventriloquism distorted ones natural voice. Glancing around Lillian discerned that no one seemed aware of anything untoward happening. She must be the only one who could hear him. Trying to move toward the mirror Lillian did not realize how odd she looked to the others. They saw a reasonably intelligent woman sidling along the floor toward a mirror. Antoinette threw a questioning look toward Meg who shrugged her shoulders and moved a couple of steps away from the older woman in case she began to act any more peculiar. When her shoulder bumped against the glass Lillian lowered her head which she had not realized had been tilted back. She had hoped to have everyone looking up but soon discovered everyone had pinned their gazes on her.

Facing the mirror she said in a slightly miffed voice, "Erik stop this game playing. I shall stand in front of you if you fear for your safety. Why you still insist on this nonsense I will never understand. Come out or go away. It is your choice."

Turning her back to the mirror Lillian mouthed silently, "Is he coming out?" Nodding heads were the only replies she received. Movement from Raoul's direction had her head whipping toward him. Taking note of Raoul's hand on the hilt of his sword Lillian had little time to think. Rushing forward she smacked Raoul soundly on his cheek. That young man stared at her in confusion just as soon as the ringing in his ears became silenced.

"What the hell was that for? Have you lost your mind along with your granddaughter?"

"You may disparage me you little Napoleon prig but leave my granddaughter's good name alone." Considering Raoul towered over Lillian and stood some six feet in height he in no way could be compared to the former emperor as far as height was concerned. Perhaps she referred to Raoul's inclination to think Erik would always be after his wife.

Calming herself Lillian spoke in a more gentle tone but no less harsh words, "Erik is here to help not manhandle you or Christine. At the moment Tamara's whereabouts are far more important than any posturing you may wish to do. If you cannot see beyond your own insecurities then leave us to our planning as you will serve no purpose."

Christine came to Raoul's side and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. Even though she had told Tamara she no longer harbored any feelings other than as a friend and student to teacher she could not help the slight pang she felt to hear of Erik's sole interest in Tamara and her safety. It did please her that finally Erik had someone who loved him as he deserved. Hopefully they would be able to confess their feelings to one another soon.

Erik stood ramrod stiff expecting a blow from some quarter. No one moved for a few seconds then Lillian and Antoinette both took him by the arm giving him courage to speak his mind. He would not let anyone judge him ever again and feel belittled by what they thought. What Tamara and her grandmother thought of him along with the few friends in this room were all that mattered to him. He may not count Raoul as a friend but he did not wish to have him as an enemy either. Peaceful coexistence would be all he could expect for the time being. Time to heal old wounds would take care of the rest.

Stumbling at first then picking up momentum Erik laid out just what had to be done. Going through all they knew of Tamara and her movements since she came back to the upper level they gradually dismissed possible places she could be.

Although in his gut he knew who had taken Tamara he must give every possibility close scrutiny. Erik demanded everyone think of any person who might have some grudge against her or someone with something to gain by her disappearance. Tamara had a good rapport with everyone she interacted with during her daily routine. Just when they would have begun to sift through the list again the door burst open and David came rushing in breathless from having run all the way from the lobby to Tamara's dressing room.

"Lillian. I have found something out that has me very disturbed. Might I speak with Tamara? It is urgent."

"Dear me David, I thought I sent someone to tell you about Tamara. She has gone missing. We have no clue where she might be other than she is not anywhere within the opera house walls or cellars."

"I was afraid of this. I hope we are not too late. I knew I should have come to inform you of what Rutherford was saying. I thought he was only being an optimistic braggart. I didn't think any of what he said held a grain of truth. Now I know for certain it did not at least in as far as he had Tamara's permission."

Before anyone could comment Erik grabbed David by the collar and pulled him up so his feet dangled above the floor. Shaking him mercilessly Erik demanded, "Where is she? What do you know? Speak or I shall use some not so very pleasant methods of gaining what I need."

Lillian and Antoinette both still held tightly to Erik's arms. They had to tiptoe as he raised his arms as David had been lifted from the floor. Erik seemed not to even realize he supported the weight of three people. In this moment of desperation his whole focus tended to be on Tamara and how to get her back.

"Erik this tactic is detrimental to what we want. David is as close to Tamara as any brother. He has only her best interests at heart. Let him down so he can tell us what he knows. I promise you will not be shut out." Lillian could feel the trembling in Erik's body. Not from cold or even his wounds which he seemed to have forgotten. Pure adrenaline must be coursing through him to let him carry on as he was without giving way to pain.

Slowly Erik lowered David to his feet then released his tight grip. David took an audible breath of relief. He took a quick look at Erik's face then turned his eyes to Lillian as he spoke trying to show calm authority, "Lillian as you know Rutherford traveled here with me and my fiancée. He was to have stayed with us until we returned to England. Today when I returned Lauren informed me that Rutherford had moved out of our suite and taken a suite of his own. Out of concern that we may have been ungracious in some way she asked why he had taken another room. He told her he planned to marry and would need privacy for him and his new bride."

After a pause to control his breathing he continued, "To say she was surprised is a mild statement. He then went on to inform her that Tamara had consented to wed him immediately and return to England on the first ship returning across the channel. This did not sound right to me. Something is afoot and I do think it has something to do with Tamara and Rutherford's supposed marriage. I for one know absolutely that Tamara can barely tolerate the man. Never in a million years would she marry him short of being held under a gun. I thought it best to hurry here so we could compare notes and come up with a plausible explanation. Now I hear that Tamara has gone missing. Do you think Rutherford would dare to kidnap her so he could force her to marry him? Surely his situation is not that desperate."

"What do you mean his situation? David tells us all you know. Everyone here is working together to find Tamara. We are all worried and at our wits end. We could think of no one who would wish to harm her but now you tell us about Rutherford's dastardly plan. We must stop this. I will not have my granddaughter compromised and wed to a man she cannot stand when she has just now found a man she can love. What shall we do?"

For a moment Erik's ears buzzed with Lillian's words. Tamara loved him. Surely it could only be him that she referred as the man Tamara might love? He had known it but to have someone else confirm it took away all doubt that he imagined her feelings toward him. Now he had even more reason to find her. This woman would not slip through his fingers.

Raoul thought hard before he spoke. It went against everything he believed about Erik but he must trust that Lillian knew her granddaughter and in some strange way knew Erik as well.

"I think our best plan of action is to have one person attempt a rescue. If we go storming into the hotel there will be a panic and people will get hurt and Rutherford may then remove Tamara from their room. If he is in the hotel at least he is somewhat confined. That will make it easier to surprise him. His arrogance will be his downfall. He believes we do not suspect him and this has lead him to think he is safe staying in the same hotel. A person of special skills climbing and walking along thin balustrades is the person we need most at the moment, someone skilled at seeing but remaining unseen, a person comfortable slipping in and out of the shadows."

Everyone had by this time turned to Erik. Raoul could be describing only one person. Lillian had no doubts about entrusting Tamara to Erik's capable hands. If anyone could get her out without causing a major disruption it would be Erik.

"Erik it must be you. You are the one most qualified to bring our Tamara back. Please do it without bloodshed if at all possible but bring her back regardless. I am placing one of my life's most precious gifts in your hands. I trust you Erik, with Tamara's life and her heart."

Erik couldn't speak and he would not let loose the tears he felt burning at the backs of his eyes. All he could do was grasp Lillian by the shoulders and look directly into her eyes hoping she would read all he could not put into words. She smiled slightly then stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. Patting his arm with one hand she wiped her eyes with the other then blew her nose loudly. Patting his arm she motioned for him to return to his home so he could make himself ready.

He didn't even bother to look at anyone else. He had the approval and blessing of the one who mattered. He would bring Tamara home and do so without shedding one drop of blood. There were other ways to persuade someone that it might be in their best interest to leave the country and never return. Because Lillian asked it of him he would comply even if it went against everything he wanted to do. He would return with Tamara with clean hands.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-three**

**Unchained Heart**

Erik returned to his home below so he could formulate a plan. He could not risk going in without every minute detail being examined. He would not risk storming in taking a chance of Tamara being hurt in some way. He had to go in without the man knowing until Tamara was beyond his reach. Once he had Tamara safely tucked away somewhere then he would deal with Rutherford. He would keep his promise not to shed the man's blood but the man had to be shown what could and would happen to him if ever he tried to contact Tamara or her grandmother again. Needless to say he would no longer be their legal representative.

Guns were not weapons Erik cared to use. In his experience a knife, sword or rope had been more efficient to use for protection. The Punjab for instance was constructed out of the thinnest of rope threads but are very strong despite their frail appearance. A person could tuck them up a sleeve or pocket without anyone detecting the weapon. Knifes were of similar characteristics as they were light weight and could be tucked in a sleeve or boot. They were also weapons that would allow a man to kill his opponent without a need for confrontation. A person could kill then leave the scene without anyone knowing anyone had been there.

The plan that evolved after an hour of contemplation was that Erik should go to the hotel and check in as a guest. Of course he would of necessity have to keep his cloak hood up and perhaps use a little stage makeup to cover his face. His mask could be placed in an inside pocket of his cloak. If he dropped the de Chagny name as the person to refer him to that particular hotel fewer questions would be asked. If he did it quickly enough he could take a look at the guestbook to find out which room Rutherford had taken since he had not been so kind as to give it to David or his fiancée. Once in his room he then could make his way to Rutherford's suite. That may necessitate climbing along the thin balustrade depending on which floor the room was located. If the room was located on or below the ninth floor he could use the fire escape to access the proper floor.

As badly as Erik wanted to rush in, kill Rutherford then steal Tamara away and disappear he knew he could do none of those things other than rescue Tamara. This time around he would use his brain in a positive way as well as his obsession with the lovely woman in question. Not that he was obsessively crazy as he had been over Christine. This time his craziness tended toward crazily in love. He nearly groaned as it dawned on him just how sappy his thoughts were. So this then was love. It made fools and romantic sops of men. If he must turn into…well if he must become another Raoul then so be it.

With one last check to make sure he had not forgotten anything Erik made ready to step out into the tunnel that would take him outside the opera house. At the last moment Erik found himself wanting to do something he could never recall doing before. He wanted to ask for God's guidance and blessing. He and the Supreme Being had not been on good terms but there was nothing set in stone that things could not change.

Having made the decision to pray it soon became evident he had no idea how to begin. Cursing his inability to do something others found so easy Erik simply requested for God's grace in saving Tamara. Once he had her safe then it would be up to him to take it from there. Somehow he felt that Lillian as well as the others would not let him stray from this new path he walked without a lot of very loud and long protests.

Taking a route that would have him bypass any exits into the opera house he took a tunnel he rarely used anymore. Since he had little need to contact the outside world after Christine's departure the tunnel had many cobwebs and the torches were damp which made them hard to set alight. Only a few seconds did he waste on whether to borrow one of the opera house horses or go afoot. If he went on foot he could take a more direct route and at some points that meant climbing from rooftop to rooftop. Going by foot would be faster since he had no burden to carry. The return trip would be another matter.

As he made his way across Paris it puzzled him how he could be so calm. Feeling the churning in his belly perhaps his calm demeanor was an exterior calm. His mind still worked rationally and not chaotically as it had when he pursued Christine. He felt a balance of rational thought mingled with the urge to rid the world of his nemesis on a permanent basis. Rationality had the upper hand at this moment which he felt would serve him better than going around leaving a wake of destruction and mayhem behind him. It would not do for Tamara to see how diabolically evil he had been before and still could be unless he made an honest effort to curtail that part of him.

The moon had decided to come out of hiding just at an ill-fated moment. Erik could hide in the shadows better than anyone but it was light that seemed to sap the intelligence right out of him. He had to make a notable effort not to skulk in some doorway until the clouds could cover that large round beacon in the sky. Pressing on determinedly he kept reinforcing all the reasons why he could and would do this. Fear of anyone seeing his face had no place in his life this night. Right was on his side. He would for once be the hero and not the villain of the piece.

Even walking at a steady clip and taking short cuts over the rooftops it still took him the better part of an hour to come to the hotel. A thought suddenly stopped him from taking the steps out of the alley to make his way to the front of the hotel. Pausing at the corner of the building he peered around. A few coaches just arriving with new hotel guests just might be his lucky break. Having no luggage may cause suspicion. Why he had not thought of this little detail he would think about later. For now he had to slip to the street side of the carriages and find some small piece of luggage that would not be missed for a while.

In the second coach he found just what he needed. Given that the coach only had two women he sincerely hoped he had not pilfered some woman's unmentionables. At least he would be spared having to look inside and face frilly _things_.

Securing the last item he needed to give credence to his request for a suite Erik made his way as casually as he could to the front of the hotel. The ornate doors suddenly took on the visage of a gaping mouth of an animal about to pounce on its prey of choice. Rarely had he ever stayed in hotels or inns. He had considered them too risky for his safety. He felt more comfortable in a barn or abandoned building.

He felt exposed, almost naked although he knew with the cowl of his cloak up no one could see any more of him than his lips and chin. Gripping the handle of the little case so hard his knuckles began to ache, Erik allowed the doorman to pull the door open giving a greeting in return to the man's own cheery "good evening". So far so good. No one took too great an interest in him. Passing glances of brief interest suited him just fine.

Counting some fifteen guests in the lobby Erik could appreciate Raoul's statement about what havoc would have ensued had he gone in removing every obstacle from his path by force. As casually as he could Erik sauntered over to the front desk. Had he ever sauntered in his life? He had done so many things lately he would never have dared until he first saw Tamara. Over the years he had given thought to visiting those women who bed anyone with the jingle of coins in their purse. A fleeting satisfaction at best would be all those encounters would have gained him. He could not do as that horrid excuse for a human being Joseph had done. Other than Christine the opera house women had always been off limits to him by his own choosing. It would have seemed a sacrilege to take one of them against their will. Now he had the chance to explore such things with a woman willing to have him just as he was. She knew all about his misdeeds yet still had some positive regard for him otherwise she would have let him die from his wounds and she would certainly not have let him kiss her.

As he came to the desk the clerk said respectfully, "Good evening Monsieur. How may I help you?"

"I would like a suite one with two rooms if available." Although he felt extremely nervous and near panic he forced false calmness into his voice. He must have succeeded as the clerk turned toward the wall where keys were hung on a board. Those were keys to the vacant rooms. While the clerk had his back turned Erik grabbed the book and opened it. He cast a quick glance down the row of signatures until he came to Rutherford's name. The man had a room on the sixth floor, room six twenty.

Just before the clerk turned back to him Erik placed the book back in its original position. The smiling clerk asked him to sign the register. For a moment Erik panicked. Sifting through the names of people he knew he nearly shouted out, "Monsieur Erik Giry." The clerk blinked to have his face blasted by Erik's declaration. He had expected him to sign the book not announce to half of Paris who he was.

Bowing slightly the clerk turned the book and asked, "Please sign on the next available line Monsieur. This is your key, room seven thirty."

Signing the register like any other person with a real name gave Erik an odd pang. Would that he could claim to have a name other than just Erik, he would be a happy man. He would not be known by those other names if he could change things. He wanted to shed the Opera Ghost and Phantom. Perhaps when he returned to his home he would dig two symbolic graves and lay to rest two not quite real personas.

He refused the offer of a boy to help with his luggage. By-passing the elevator Erik forced his feet to sedately climb the stairs until the clerk could no longer see him then began to take the stairs two at a time. All those years of climbing and walking the miles of tunnels had at last been of some benefit. Going through the door on the seventh floor it didn't take long to find room seven twenty. Once inside the opulence of his surroundings took him aback. This was not even the best suite yet it spoke of wealthy indulgence such as he had known only by stealing what others had. He may have need to send for someone to bring money to pay for the room as that had been something he had thought he would need.

Taking out his pocket watch as he carelessly tossed the borrowed case onto a chair Erik noted that it was only nine o'clock. He'd wait until eleven then go down to the sixth floor. If he heard no sounds he would use his lock pick tools to open the door. The knife in his boot would only make an appearance if needed or when he returned to persuade the bastard who took Tamara that it would be better for his health to leave Paris as soon as possible and never return. He would keep to that plan as long as Rutherford did not get in his way.

Discarding his cloak carelessly was not something Erik usually did nor did he often remove his gloves but for tonight he wanted nothing hindering his movements or separating his fingers from Rutherford's neck. He said he would not kill him but his plan required he put the fear of the devil in the man to ensure he never crossed the English Channel again. Being of a frightful nature used to come easily to Erik but it had been quite some time since he had wanted everyone to fear him to the degree they had before. A respectful fear had been what he needed once Tamara and Lillian had come into his life.

Time dragged by. Erik nearly wore a path in the carpet with his adjitated pacing. Checking to make certain he had all he needed Erik checked the time. Ten forty-five. Close enough. He would wait no longer. When he faced Rutherford he must remember to ask what had made him think no one would care enough to look for Tamara and why did he not pick a more discrete place to hold out until tomorrow? Apparently he underestimated just what lengths his ghostly foe would go to return his lady love.

Debating whether to go out onto the fire escape or enter the suite through the door in the end he felt it would be best to go out the window and climb down the fire escape to the floor below. That would be one less risk of running into anyone in the hallway or stairwell. Coming back up he'd carry Tamara up the stairs if she could not walk. If she could not walk it had better be from being drugged and not from any injury sustained while being taken against her will.

As he climbed out the window and felt the metal under his boot it did occur to him that the anxiety and fear he felt must be similar to what Raoul felt when Christine had been removed forcefully from his protection. Being on this side of the crime did not feel in the least comfortable. Imagining what could be happening fired his need for revenge and worry for Tamara's safety drove every other concern from his mind. He had to close off those emotions as they would not serve him in this hour when one mistake could mean he lost Tamara forever. That he could not face.

Reentering the hotel through the window to a hallway on the sixth floor had been far too easy. This hotel should be brought to task for careless disregard of its patrons. A child could have done what he had done, what might another man do in his place? It sent chills down his spine just thinking of all the horrible things people do to one another. For years he had been one of the culprits of such deeds.

As quietly as he could Erik made his way down the hall toward Rutherford's suite. Standing in front of the door he leaned in so he could catch any sound from the other side of the door. He could hear nothing. At least Rutherford had the decency to take a suite with two bedrooms. If he had joined Tamara in her bed he felt certain Tamara would have shouted the walls down if her captor had not given her any further drugs to keep her quiet. Likely he would administer something in the morning so as to keep from having Tamara make any protests that would gain attention. For tonight he probably had only tied and gagged her.

Silently he withdrew his picks and went to work. In less than a minute he had the door open and went in ready to face whatever waited on the other side. Lord help Rutherford if he awoke and tried to stop him from going to the woman he loved. Again he could not help but equate what he felt with what it must have been like for Raoul when he sought to rescue Christine. When all of this ended he must make a point to apologize formally to both Christine and Raoul if he did not murder Rutherford and find it necessary to leave the country with Tamara in tow.

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger but if I get a few quick reviews I'll post in a day or so. Blackmail, ain't it a B**ch? **


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Here it is dear readers as promised. The next chapter. Still not quite where we'd like to be but we will get there never fear. **

**Chapter Thirty-four**

**Conquering the Beast**

Noiselessly the door slid open. Slipping inside Erik closed the door behind him. Leaning back against the solid panel gave him a moment to adjust to this new darkness. The hall had been lit by sporadically placed gas lamps that were giving off only minimal lighting so that anyone coming down the hall could see without being overly bright. Rutherford had not been thoughtful enough to leave so much as a candle burning. Darkness did not disorient Erik in the least. Darkness had been a long time friend. Where most people would stumble and crash into things if it were dark, Erik had a sixth sense that he imagined blind people would have when they lost their sight.

All he had to do now was ascertain in which room Tamara slept. That should be easy to figure out. He let his ears guide him. As he approached the bedroom on the left he could hear the distinct sounds of someone snoring. Not anything a lady would likely do either. This person snored loud enough to wake the dead as he could be heard through the thickness of the bedroom door. This then had to be Rutherford. Clenching his hands until he gained control slowly he commanded himself to breathe normally as he released his fingers one by one flexing them to return the circulation that had ceased to flow while clenched into a fist. Anger would serve him later but not now. Now he must put all his skills into removing Tamara without waking her kidnapper.

Quietly Erik took the few steps that would bring him to the other bedroom. Leaning his ear against the door panel he could hear nothing. Swallowing nervously he prepared himself for what he might find behind the door. Terrible images raced across his mind urging him to hurry when caution was what he needed at this moment. The maintenance workers at this hotel should be commended for keeping the doors oiled as none so far had made so much as a squeak. Carefully he closed the door behind him then slowly made his way to the bed. Bending down Erik covered Tamara's mouth with his hand and used his upper body to hold her down as he sat on the edge of the bed. When she began to struggle soothingly he whispered in her ear, "It is me Tamara. Stay calm. I am here to bring you home with me where you belong. I am going to remove my hand from your mouth but you must remain quiet. Do you understand?"

Feeling her nod her head little by little he slide his hand away from Tamara's mouth. He heard nothing more than a relieved sigh. Running his hands along her body in an unnecessary caress he felt only slight quilt to be touching her so intimately. He had to reassure himself that she had no wounds did he not? She made no protest and even placed her hand over his giving him a small squeeze he supposed to give him her reassurance that now all would be well with him here to rescue her. At first he had thought Rutherford had been so lax as to leave her unrestrained but that had been discounted when he heard the clinking of metal and then felt the metal around her wrist. More than likely he had her chained to the bedpost. No matter. The chain's lock would be dealt with just as the outer door's lock had been. If he chained her wrist he probably chained her ankles as well. This proved to be the way of things as Erik worked the locks free with persistent determination. No lock had ever defeated him and these would not be the first. Briefly a smile of satisfaction crossed his lips when first lock gave way then the other. Tamara was free and now they would leave Rutherford's suite to make their way to Erik's.

Helping Tamara to her feet she swayed against him. Not giving it a second thought Erik bent and picked her up enfolding her within his arms. For a moment he did not move in case this action frightened her. When she did nothing more than wind her arms around his neck and burrow her face deeper into his chest he wished he could shout to the world that a woman trusted him and accepted his touch without any reservations or needs for threats. Perhaps he would do that once they had gone back to the opera house.

It would be too great a risk to go back out through the door so out the window it must be. The night being chilly would make for a few uncomfortable minutes but that could not be helped. Once he made it out onto the iron fire escape things were not as bad as he had let himself believe. Tamara seemed quite content to let him hold her even after knowing it would be safe for her to now demand he release her so she could get away from both him and Rutherford.

This time he was climbing up a flight of stairs with the added burden of a warm body in his arms. Gladly he bore the extra weight he must carry as the lady in question had not even opened her eyes since Erik had taken her in his arms. Her lips were so temptingly near and with her snuggled against him he could feel her heart beating in time with his own or was it that his heart had given over to the rhythm of hers? No matter. It felt wonderful and right. Having left the window open it was easy to climb into his bedroom. The cozy bed drew him but he managed to turn away from the temptation to satisfy fleshly desires.

The salon should be safe enough. Striding toward the settee Erik did not stop or glance around until he had Tamara ensconced on the settee with a blanket tucked tightly around her. He made sure to cover her from her chin to her shoes. That would not give him anything to lust over other than her beautiful face. When he would have stood away from her he felt her fingers grasping to find his. Taking her much smaller hand in his own Erik whispered to her that he only intended to turn on a lamp so he could see for himself that no harm had come to her. Once he had looked over all that decency would allow he asked her if she felt any pain anywhere. Only when she told him she felt fine would he let himself relax. When he told her he must pay another visit to Rutherford just as he expected she had protested.

"Tamara I must make him see that it is better for all concerned if he leaves Paris, in fact he must vacate the country. I will have his promise to never seek you out again and turn all legal matters over to your assistant until such time as you can find another solicitor. You do understand that this is necessary don't you?"

Sighing with regret Tamara said, "I know you are right but please promise you won't…well you know. I want to know that he is breathing as he crosses back over the channel."

"I swear to you on all that I hold dear that I shall merely use what skills I have at my disposal to gain his cooperation?" If he neglected to tell her that some skills he had were more deadly than others or that he could inflict injuries that would allow a person to live for a week thinking they had escaped punishment she may not have let him leave the room again which is why he did not see that it would be wise to inform her what methods he could bring to bare if he wished.

Erik wasted no time returning to Rutherford's rooms. Going into the room Tamara had occupied he took the chains that had been used to hold the lady in question prisoner. Nothing would please him more than to place them around the man's neck but he would not do that as he would not break his promise.

Opening the door where his victim still snored unaware he had a visitor. Erik made short work of the few steps to stand beside the bed wanting to drag the man violently from his peaceful slumber but wouldn't until he had been bound and gagged. By the number of empty bottles on the bedside table Rutherford had been celebrating his victory prematurely. Having an inebriated man as his victim did not seem to bring the same level of anticipation as one who would be in full control of his faculties, much to Erik's disappointment. He had wanted to use some of his old skills to sway the man into compliance with his demands.

Testing the chains to assure that they were firmly locked into place Erik began to tap the rounded cheeks of Rutherford. Early morning stubble had already begun to cover his face. Being drunk had not been enough. The man had to display slovenly disregard for nightly ablutions. He wreaked of alcohol and sweat, not a pleasant combination.

Turning to the bedside table Erik found a box of matches and lit the lamp. He turned the flame down until it only gave off a small glow that cast flickering light around the immediate area. What one could not see at times became more frightening than what one could clearly see. Man's imagination at times could take him to horrible places often times more terrible than reality. Erik knew this all too well. Nightmares still haunted him sometimes at night.

"Monsieur Taylor," Erik called softly. He nudged the sleeping form with his forefinger. Gaining no response Erik nudged him harder. A groggy grown came from the sleeping man. The chains locked around his wrist rattled as he tried to raise his hands to rub at this eyes. When he could not raise his hands more than a few inches sleepily he blinked to clear his vision. Before him he saw a tall dark figure hovering menacingly over him. No sound left his mouth even as his mind commanded his mouth to release a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

"Calm yourself Monsieur. We wouldn't want to have a heart attack or a stroke now would we?" Erik's tone contradicted his words ominously. The demonic smile crossing his lips did little to reassure Rutherford that he wasn't about to be murdered by a madman. His eyes widened with fear when at last it registered that this man wore a mask. Things began to fall into place bringing him to the correct conclusion. The Opera Ghost held him captive. Struggling against the metal only caused them to dig into his skin.

"As you can see it does no good to struggle. I wonder if you felt even a fleeting bit of remorse when Tamara struggled or begged to be set free. I can see by the expression in your eyes you had only concern for yourself until this very second. Even now you are more afraid of what I might do to you than to wonder what I may already have done to the woman you held captive. Such cowardly concern is not gentlemanly at all. A true gentleman would fight to the death to save a woman in need of his help, even one they do not know. You Monsieur know Tamara only slightly. After meeting you and observing what sort of man you are I now can understand her abhorrence of you." Erik did not even try to keep the contempt he felt for this man out of his voice.

"Now let us get to the matter at hand. I'll not waste time on you that could be spent much more pleasantly with Tamara. I shall be making demands of you and when I ask you will answer my demands appropriately. This first demand should come as no surprise to you. I must insist that you severe all contact with Tamara. Do you understand and agree to this demand?"

Quick nods of his head were all Erik allowed his captive. Using the tip of his knife to lift the chin of the now cowering Rutherford infused Erik with a sense of power one he must not let go beyond the reach of his control. Leaning in so he knew Rutherford could see every frightening detail of his face and the real threat of violence in his eyes he said in a pleasant tone contradictory to any malevolent emotions he may have, "This one time I will take you at your word. Cross me and the world will not be big enough to hide you. Every day of your life will seem like twenty if you ever come anywhere Tamara is likely to be. Might I suggest relocating in the Far East or perhaps some place tropical and where the sun is warmer? I really don't care as long as I see you board a ship leaving the harbor within the next day or two. My eyes are everywhere. I see everything. If you doubt me just ask anyone who works within the walls of L'Opéra Populaire."

Straightening up Erik moved to place his knife back in his boot. Rutherford flinched and closed his eyes tightly as he whimpered through the gag in his mouth. Rarely had Erik had an opportunity to smile with self-satisfaction but he did so now. He had not needed anything more than the belief that some harm would befall his prey should he disobey the Opera Ghost's dictates.

"I cannot myself unlock your chains for you as I cannot chance you acting out of character by showing ill-advised bravery. I shall therefore leave this key just out of reach of your fingers. By working hard to coordinate your movements you should be able to maneuver the sheet and slide the key up toward your hand. I will leave you with this advice. Be cautious in your movements as anything overly vigorous will likely have the key falling to the floor."

Placing his hand over where his heart beat strongly Erik said with false sympathy, "I would not want anything to happen to you such as starving or dying of thirst. Just so you know, I will be placing the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob. Can't have housekeeping coming in with towels and finding you too early now can we?"

With one last pat of his hand on Rutherford's heaving chest Erik departed the room. Now he could focus on Tamara and just where they would go from here. He knew what he would like to happen but also knew it was not likely to occur. He felt beastly even having such thoughts after what Tamara had gone through. He'd reign in those emotions and give her whatever she asked of him, even if she told him to go to the devil and leave her in peace.


	35. Chapter 35

**Thirty-five**

**Innocent Passions**

Tamara dosed as the drug Rutherford gave her still flowed through her bloodstream. After he had used the chloroform to take her from the opera house he had given her a sedative in the drink of water she had asked for. When her eyelids had started to droop and her body felt as if it were floating she knew something had been slipped in the glass of water. Wanting to give the man a good cussing out all she could do was speak in garbled sentences just before sleep overcame her.

A few hours dozing had worn off most of the drugs affect. Apparently Rutherford's intention had been to make her malleable not send her into oblivion for days. She still felt woozy but thought if she got up and walked around that might help revive her. If she had to wait for Erik's return she would make the most of it. The first order of business was to take a bath to wash any remnants of that dreadful Rutherford off of her skin.

If the hotel provided robes that would have to do until something more suitable could be found. If Erik only intended to throw the fear of God into Rutherford he should be back presently. For a moment she contemplated whether he had intended for them to spend the night here or return to the opera house once he returned. Within her own heart she knew which she would prefer. Away from the opera house they could be just Erik and Tamara instead of Opera Ghost and opera house manager. What would it be like to behave as a normal couple? Could they not pretend for one night?

Spying the case on the chair with colorful garments spilling out Tamara grabbed a handful of silky red dressing gown. The matching nightgown she pulled out as well. This could not possibly be Erik's so perhaps he had brought this for her to wear which gave her pause for thought. Had he imagined receiving more than a heartfelt thank you for rescuing her? Did it matter? Sitting down with the two garments clutched to her chest she played different scenarios in her mind. Inevitably the choice would be hers to make. Erik would not force her into anything. He may use his powers of persuasion but would let her have freewill to decide something this important. After all it had not been her decision to end their intimacies before? If left to her, they would have become lovers while the man had been hours away from deaths door with serious injuries weakening him. She did feel guilty for having practically attacked Erik while he lay on his bed bleeding and in pain.

Obviously now there would be nothing hampering his responses other than whether or not she wished to allow things to take their natural course. She did, yes indeed she did. Resolutely she hurried to the bath so she could quickly freshen up and have the gown on thus presenting Erik with a fait acompli. Being a man and one without previous experience gave Tamara a sense of power she would not otherwise have had. Both of them entering into this new arena without any previous knowledge evened things considerably, as far as what either of them knew or did not know. They would both be learning as they went.

Sinse she had already taken leave to use the garments she found there was no viable reason not to avail herself of the toiletries she found in the bag. Erik must have _borrowed_ this from some guest either leaving or checking in. Whether sheer luck or foresight on his part the bag belonged to a lady and one with rather risqué tastes to boot. Not many women would have the nerve to wear such colorful garments or use such alluring bath salts. As the water came splashing into the tub an aromatic steam filled the room with a delightful fragrance. Stepping into the water she sank down closing her eyes in ecstasy. Later she would need to read the labels of all those vials in the case. If Erik found the scent pleasing as she did then it would require visiting the same shops the owner of the bag visited. Feeling somewhat of a risqué nature herself at this moment plans of seduction began to fill her head. When had she become this sensuously confident woman? It had started the moment she met Erik or perhaps it had been the first word he spoke that caressed her ear with his own seductive qualities. That man could melt butter at fifty paces with just a few whispered words. He was dangerous, dangerous to any woman with nerves and still functioning body parts.

Having washed all that could be washed Tamara let the water out reluctantly. Not being brave enough to have Erik to return with her still naked in the tub her only recourse was to dress and wait for him to return. A woman could be alluring without having to bare all to her lover.

Moving from one place to another practicing several different poses in the end she began to feel slightly ridiculous. What did she know about seductive poses or luring a man into her bed? Nothing, absolutely nothing, that's what. Coming to rest on the settee she smoothed her hands over the silken cloth. If she sat here waiting surely he would know what she wanted, would he not? A woman did not sit in a room without others or even with others wearing what one wore to sleep in. Would this clue Erik in to what she wanted but could not say out loud?

The rattling of the doorknob gave her a slight start. For a moment she thought it might be Rutherford come to take her back. It had been over an hour since Erik had brought her back. What had taken him so long? Surely it only took a few minutes to frighten someone. She knew for a fact that Rutherford had scared her quite easily and he wasn't exactly the fearsome Opera Ghost or Phantom. He had only ever been a very annoying solicitor until today.

Erik looked so wonderful when he stepped into the room and she felt such gratitude that he cared enough to seek her out then take care of her captor, she could not stay her feet from running to him to almost catapult herself into his arms. He staggered back into the closed door just as he wrapped his arms reflexively around her waist. As she placed kisses all over his face it briefly came to her that all her plans for seduction were now unnecessary. He would know exactly how she felt and what she wanted. Taking his lips in a hungry kiss that at first surprised him then drew and equally hungry response from Erik they devoured one another until they had a need to breathe.

Slowly they separated as their eyes locked and held. Speech had deserted them both. Did they have any need for words? Tamara raised her hands to cup Erik's face tenderly as she used her thumbs to caress the upper part of his cheeks. More than anything she wished he trusted her enough to let her skin touch the part of him hidden behind the mask. She did not wish it for her own sake but for his. Until she looked upon him fully he would always have a sliver of doubt about her true feelings for him and whether or not she could overcome what he hid from the world.

She could use words and actions to persuade him she spoke the truth but his one experience revealing all of him to someone had not gone well. Being more mature than Christine and more certain of her feelings would count little to a man who felt no one would love the man behind the mask. It would be an uphill battle she could see that clearly in his eyes as even now doubts began to fill his gaze. She could tell he wanted to grab her hands and remove them from temptation. A part of her urged her to rip it off alleviating the question of could she bear to see all of him and still want him. Knowing he would never forgive such an action she continued to hold him and look at him with all the honesty and love she had within her.

Gradually his body began to relax and his eyes lost their mistrust. Desire turned his eyes a more intense green. The warmth entering them drew an answering heat to her own blue eyes. Bending his head Erik stopped to speak with his lips hovering over Tamara's by a mere hairsbreadth between them, "I have sent word to the others that you are safe and I shall be returning you to them just as soon as you are able to make the journey."

"Oh, well, in that case I feel rather faint and don't think I should leave this room until sometime tomorrow. In fact I think I should retire to my bed. I feel rather weak and may have need of your strong arms to aid me." Swooning convincingly she brought her hand to her forehead. Erik immediately scooped her up and carried her to the settee.

"No. I think the bed would be better for my recovery." Her protest came immediately and far too strongly for a woman supposedly of a weak constitution. Erik did not voice his doubts of her veracity. She felt far too wonderful in his arms to complain.

Laying his burden on the bed Erik straightened and would have left but Tamara grabbed his hand to ask in feigned fear, "Please, could you stay? I know it is silly but I don't think I could sleep a wink if I am alone. My mind will have me imagining all sorts of things." She could hardly tell him that her mind had already come up with several very inappropriate things concerning the two of them and what they might do this night if she had her way.

Erik sat on the bed nervous to be this close to her and just in the last few minutes realizing what she had on or rather what she did not have on, proper clothing to be exact. Whatever she had used to bath had his senses working overtime trying to keep up with his libido. He thought it might not be such a good idea to sit so close to her looking and smelling as she did. All of his senses were on alert as was his body.

A few seconds later Tamara made another plea filled with false uncertainty. "Erik could you not lie beside me, just until I fall asleep? And would it not be more comfortable if you removed your cravat and jacket. You could even unbutton your shirt front and cuffs. I think that would be best, don't you?"

Her words were spoken with such innocent reflection he did not have any suspicion she told any untruths or craftily lured him into her seductive web. Untried she may be but unintelligent and without inner resources she was not. Hiding her smile as he stood and did as she directed gave her time to plan what she would have him do next. He had been quite malleable thus far. She'd let him relax then suddenly remember his boots. He simply must remove his boots and as long as his boots were off might it not be a good idea to remove his socks?

Erik had lain stiffly beside Tamara awaiting what directive she would give next. Being of above average intelligence it had not taken him long to realize what game she played. His only doubt was to what end she played this dangerous game and could he remain passive until she grew tired of making her demands or came to the end and spoke plainly what end she wished to have played out.

It had been some minutes with nothing further being asked of him. Feigned patience kept him unmoving and silent, waiting for something to happen. He heard the rustle of cloth seconds before he felt her hand settle disturbingly on his stomach. He could not control the tightening of those lucky muscles. Closing his eyes intensified the feeling of her soft skin covering his shirt. His mind nearly scrambled into incoherent thoughts when he felt her begin to unbutton his shirt. This had to be a dream. Nothing like this could ever happen to him other than in a dream.

"It is hot in here don't you think? Let me unbutton your shirt for you. I think I will need to remove this robe also. I feel as if I am stifling. There now isn't that better?" Having undone the last button Tamara swallowed down her shyness forcing the recently braver part of her to continue to control her actions. Nothing had prepared her for how exquisite his skin would feel against her own. Hard meeting soft, contrasting textures, but both with nerve endings sending thousands of pleasurable signals to the brain. She dared to move her hand only once over the taught skin before rising to remove the robe. When maidenly modestly would have stayed her hand she forced herself to continue on this path she had chosen.

Lying with only a thin layer of silk between her and the man she would like to explore in forbidden ways had her breathing heavily even though she did not move. Her heart hammered against her chest so hard and loud she felt sure he must feel and hear it. Bravely she shifted closer to him so her body lay flush against his. Now she could hear how heavily Erik's own breath came. Turning her head she could see the flush of desire growing on his cheeks. He might be lying passively but his body told the truth of how he felt. Glancing downward she could see his arousal straining against his trousers. Naiveté did not mean ignorance. She may not have seen how a man looked when aroused but she had overheard conversations among married women.

Now the question was what did she do with her knowledge? Should she boldly state what she wanted or continue to tempt him into taking the next step that would lead them where they both wanted to go? In most cases it would be easier for the man to demand and lead a seduction but in Erik's case he would need to be encouraged with bold gestures before he would make any sort of move toward her. She could understand his reticence now after his boldness earlier. She felt little equipped to do anything herself but one of them had to brave the frontier of sexual experimentation or they would lie here all night aroused and frustrated. That did not fit in with what she wanted at all.

Taking one last sustaining breath Tamara raised up and positioned herself over Erik to state calmly, "Erik I am going to kiss you and do things to you that I hope will please you. If you do not want to continue down this path speak now or be prepared for things I am sure you have thought about but never experienced. It is the same for me. I want to share these experiences with you and no other. If you do not feel the same the time to protest is now, or suffer the consequences."

As a threat it was weak but it did prepare Erik for what she did next at least it prepared him as well as he could for such an overload to his senses. The moment she pressed her hand on his bared chest he thought he might have a heart attack. That belief intensified when he felt her lean over him then place her lips against his own. At that point everything went haywire and he had no rational thoughts at all for some time.

Feeling her breasts pressing into him awoke something in him he had never experienced before, something carnal and bearing a strong resemblance to something animalistic. He growled as his senses soared to heights never reached before. Rolling over he took charge of their kisses and dared to place his hands on her silk covered skin. He had touched Christine's breasts briefly but this woman allowed him to cup her and fondle her in ways he dared not to even dream. Her hand pressing over his to deepen the caress drove all restraint that he might have had over the limit.

Blindly Erik covered her body with his own. Wildly they writhed against one another moving their hands frantically wanting to touch everywhere at the same time. Several minutes of this unchecked exploration gave way to less frantic caresses. Gradually their hands took time to explore each section of newly discovered skin. Neither would ever be able to say just how it came about that they ended up with no clothing between them. In the morning they would shyly look about at all the articles of clothing strewn about the room in wonder. For now all they could think about was each other and bringing this intensity to a point of release before they exploded or spontaneously combusted.

They did not care that they fumbled about not knowing what to do. They laughed together then learned together how to please one another. Later they would feel wonder how easily they lead one another to the discoveries of their bodies pleasure points. Shyness played little part during those hours they learned about one another and what they wanted and needed.

Erik wanted to learn all of Tamara's secrets. To that end he took time to discover her once the first mad passion had been dealt with. As he had expected his release had come prematurely but Tamara would not let him apologize or worry. She did not let him denigrate himself for his inadequacy. She did not see that he failed her at all. In her innocence she had thought what she felt that first time with Erik would be all that came from their joining. Later he showed her through trial and error just what he had felt when all restraint and control left one helpless to all but letting the moment take you beyond the body's earthly bonds into the realm of pure emotions and sensations. Tamara's cries and encouraging groans boosted his ego more than anything in his life ever had. She praised him for knowing just where to touch and how to touch her. They both knew this ability was a recent acquisition but he would take her praise in the spirit it had been given.

It amazed him just how responsive a woman could be to stimulus just as men were. Hearing Tamara speak aloud how he made her feel as his hands and lips sought places that gave her pleasure aroused him more than he would have imagined. Suckling at her breast with his tongue grazing over the tip brought about intense reactions from her. If he fondled her between her thighs while paying homage to her breasts she responded as if her very soul left her body at that final moment of release.

As much as he would have liked to spend the whole night exploring her she insisted he give her an equal amount of time to explore him. Any protest he might have made died the instant he felt her lips grazing down over his stomach heading toward the beast between his legs. He lost all intelligent thought when she claimed him with her lips. If he could have had any thought and had it sound intelligent when spoken he might have protested her actions. For once Erik would gladly proclaim himself an unintelligent beast, one unable to communicate the simplest of commands or thoughts. She encouraged that part of him to take over while she pleasured him. He would never look at the world in the same light again. How could he when he felt as if through Tamara he had been reborn?

**A/N: Ah, at last the deed is done. Innocent passion driving them to completion. **


	36. Chapter 36

**Thirty-six**

**Facing the Aftermath**

Groggily Erik awoke feeling drained yet it did not feel unpleasant. In fact he felt more alive than he ever had in his life and once he became fully awake he felt unusually invigorated as his mind came to full wakefulness as did his body. Torrid flashes of bodies entwined along with sounds of lovemaking filling the night returned to him with vivid accuracy. Scarcely could he believe what his mind and body told him was the truth. He had shared intimacies with a woman not only once but many times and in many different ways. Fearful that movement would have all his memories from last night disappearing in a puff of smoke he lay perfectly still. He scarcely dare breathe. He wanted nothing more than to wake Tamara and repeat what had taken place last night but years of waking after such dreams to find himself alone and unloved kept him from wanting to chance losing this moment of pure bliss.

A weight flopping across his chest accompanied by the tickle of what felt like hair gave validity to what his mind told him had taken place. Inhaling a sweet fragrance further added justification to what he thought to be fact and not fabricated imaginings. The body draped over him began to move and stretch as sounds came from her lips. Fearfully Erik's hand rose to his face before he had time to even think to do so. His fingers encountered the hard smooth outer shell of his mask. He remembered wanting to remove it so he could feel Tamara's skin with every inch of his own but fear had kept the mask in place. She had made no demands or comments about it. Amazingly she had caressed the mask as if she caressed his flesh. What she did to the left side she did to the right. Not once had her fingers curled in contemplation of removing his most sacred shield.

"Oh Erik it feels good waking to find you next to me. I have never felt so safe and untroubled. Am I a shameless harlot for thinking such things and for allowing a man not my husband into my bed?" Although her questions were serious she did not sound as if she felt any real regret for her actions. When she snuggled closer to him his momentary doubts drifted away as if they had never been.

"Yes you are quite shameless. A temptress intent on luring men to acts so sinful they should be whispered in the ear of a priest only in the confessional. I dare say I shall be forced to make an honest woman of you. I shall be forced to visit the jeweler and heaven help me when your Grandmother confronts me as to why I did not bring you home immediately. I am trapped, trapped by female machinations." More quietly and in a more serious tone Erik asked, "Do you think you could ever consider marrying a man such as I?" Erik had meant only to jest with her but the words took a turn he had not planned. Did he wish to make her his wife? Would she even consider such a thing? Should he make light of what he said or wait for her reaction first?

Swiftly she sat up looking down at him wide-eyed. Her mouth dropped open slightly in shock. "Erik! Did you just propose to me in a backhanded sort of way?"

"If I did, and I am not saying I did, what would be your answer?"

She hit his chest playfully with the flat of her hand as she said coyly, "Erik either you are proposing or you are not. I will not answer such a question unless you clearly state your intent. If I did say yes, and I am not saying I am, what would you do then?"

"Why Mademoiselle as a gentleman I would have to purchase a ring, then return to you so that I could ask the question properly and receive my answer in the proper fashion. A lot of trouble I must say but I shall do as I must for the sake of propriety." Although teasing, Erik felt the gravity of what this meant for the both of them. Already he felt connected to her in a way he had never been with anyone. Whether or not they stood before a priest and confessed how they felt and spoke those vows binding them for eternity, he felt as if they were already bound to one another.

Leaning down Tamara kissed him starting on the tip of his nose then worked her way down to his lips stopping just before she claimed his mouth with her own she said confidently, "Well then I suppose it is only right I accept any proposal you make so as to not insult a gentleman, what with my being a proper lady and all."

The kiss she bestowed on him spoke nothing of being a proper lady but declared the woman to be a practiced temptress. She had no trouble tempting Erik to show her yet again what joys they could share. An imp had her pushing him back when he would have rolled over. Not knowing what to expect he nearly stopped breathing when she straddled him letting the covers drop from her so nothing covered her but long strands of soft lustrous hair. Lady Godiva she had been at the ball and the lady now reappeared to pleasure Erik in ways he could not even have imagined.

Slowly she began to rock her body. Rising up Erik wrapped his arms around her drawing her unresistingly closer to him. He wanted nothing between them. Hesitating only briefly he curled his fingers around the outer edge of the porcelain. With a quick tug he tore it away then tossed it to the side lest he lose his nerve. As she opened her eyes to look at him only desire and the deeper emotion of what he thought had to be love shown from her eyes.

Placing one hand on either side of his face she did not look at the marred flesh for more than a fleeting second. More importantly she wanted to look him directly in the eye as she made her declaration of love.

"Erik I love you. I love the totality of you. With the mask or without the mask it is you who holds my heart. It is you I love. In some strange way I feel as though I have always known you were out there waiting for me just as I was waiting for you. Nothing before we met matters. What matters now is that we are together." Joyous tears could not be kept from falling. She was not ashamed to let him see them just as the tears that flowed from his eyes were not hidden from her.

"I love you Tamara now and for always. I am the luckiest man ever to walk the earth because you love me, the best and worst of me. You ask nothing of me, only that I love you. I warn you I am a selfish man and likely will demand much from you. I will try to be a better man and know I can be just because you are in my life. For you I can change. I have changed."

Not needing any more words at this moment they made love in such a profound way that transcended mere touch of skin to skin. Their very souls embraced and united for eternity. Never would the Opera Ghost be alone again. The Phantom would have little need to haunt the opera house or terrorize anyone. He had no heart for such things anymore. Like most legends he would fade from the memories of those who knew of him until in time there would only be an occasional mention of some ghost or phantom at L'Opéra Populaire.

**A/N: Not quite the end but close. Just need to wrap up a few loose ends then on to the next Erik tale. As always please kindly leave a review and many thanks to all who have left reviews. I do appreciate them all. **


	37. Chapter 37

**Thirty-seven**

**Grandmother's Opera Ghost **

**Lillian's Diary **

What does one write when there is so much to say? So much has happened and still more to come. My cup has run over with good fortune and will soon flood France. This past year has been a whirlwind of activity and expectations. Little did I know when I purchased a haunted opera house I would end up related to the dear fellow. I had hoped to at least meet him and maybe spark Tamara's interest in life other than business. I certainly got more than I bargained for.

Having worried through the night about Tamara and yes, I admit it, I worried about Erik too. The late, very late, afternoon brought the return of our missing loved ones, Tamara and Erik. I would have smacked that young scallywag's ears if he had not still been recovering from his wounds. By mutual agreement we all thought it best not to mention the fact that the two of them had been away, together, all night, doing God knows what. Well I suppose we all did know, at least we surmised. Later I needled and prodded until Tamara threw her hands up and told me all. Not in explicit detail but I got the gist of things.

Contrary to what one might think not one whisper had been heard that might disparage Tamara's reputation. Perhaps it had been the beautiful ring on Tamara's finger that held off some of the gossip. More likely it had been several well placed threatening letters pinned to various notice boards around the opera house warning that if anyone spoke ill of Mademoiselle Stern a certain ghost would bring his friend, the Phantom along and pay the gossip mongers a personal visit that would leave them feeling very unpleasant if they could feel at all. I chose not to question Erik as to how serious he had been about those threats. It worked so I did not need to worry about the police coming to search for my soon to be grandson-in-law. I must say I was as pleased as could be to think I would have a grandson and if God willed it I would be blessed with great-grandchildren.

Most weddings take many months, sometimes a year to plan but neither Tamara nor Erik would hear of waiting more than three months. Tamara stated that if a wedding could not be planned in that time they would be standing before a priest or whatever clergy would perform a ceremony. It had been a close one but we ladies pulled it off. Not one person mentioned anything about any perceived need for a rushed wedding and I certainly didn't bring anything up that might embarrass my granddaughter or Erik. Despite the fact that I would welcome something so wonderful I did not want their marriage to begin with a stain on it, not that I nor they would bow our heads in shame if something like that had occurred. We would have looked everyone in the eye and dared them to make some comment meant to cast aspersions on their character. Well I'll just say that no one would dare make a peep about anything because a certain ghost would not have it. One whisper in an ear would have sufficed.

Oh my, what a day it had been when Tamara had invited Raoul and Christine to dine a month after her abduction and return. Raoul had been less inclined to skewer Erik as now his focus had turned to another. Christine and Tamara along with Meg have become quite the trio. Of all things David found himself abandoned by his fiancée just a week after the masquerade. Seems she had met some artist fellow and eloped with him leaving poor David a broken man. Such a good thing Meg took pity on him and gently wrapped him in her loving arms. It hadn't taken much for him to forget or at least to begin to forget that dreadful woman he had nearly tied himself to. Meg is much better for him. Such a sweet girl. I must say I am glad Erik went after Christine all those years ago as if he had taken a shine to Meg heaven knows what would have happened. Meg is a different proposition than Christine, not that Christine isn't wonderful, just less…well less of this world a lot of the time.

Tamara was so beautiful on her wedding day. I don't believe there was a dry eye in the church. I know I used my handkerchief and then borrowed David's. Meg had to use the ruffle on her sleeve. She should have been quicker to ask for something to wipe her eyes and nose. I certainly wasn't going to arrive at the reception drenched in tears and what not.

Cupid had been flinging arrows during that time as so many people found a life partner when none had been looking for one. I met my dear William coming out of the opera house one day on the way to pick up some fabric for Tamara's wedding dress. Our own dressmaker in the opera made the dress. Wonderful job she did too. Well back to William. I bumped into him going out the door just as he was going in. After making sure he had not hurt me we simply looked at one another for several minutes then he recovered himself enough to ask if I might like to join him for a cup of tea. Without hesitation I had found myself agreeing and shortly thereafter he proposed, one month later to be precise. Now I didn't want to take away from Tamara's wedding but at my age there is little time for procrastination. We wed secretly a month later without anyone being the wiser. He didn't mind that I had to stay at the opera house as long as we spent most of our time together. For all the time he spent with me he may as well have packed his bags and moved into the opera house. Becoming a patron did give him certain liberties which he took advantage of quite shamelessly. I didn't mind in the least.

And Antoinette, that sly boots, she took one look at William's brother and set her cap at him. Really it wasn't much of a challenge as he fell for her, literally. When he went to kiss her hand he tripped and fell figuratively and literally for her. The dear man is such an uncoordinated person. He did need someone with natural grace to show him how to move without damaging his surroundings and himself. She had taken him well in hand and today he is still slightly clumsy but we all feel safe with open wine bottles within feet of him.

**Diary of Lillian**

Such wondrous news came today. Tamara is with child. I can't stop woolgathering as I picture just what she will look like. Naturally my first grandchild will be a girl as when she has a brother she can take him in hand and teach him the proper way to deal with the females in his life. An older brother I suppose would be nice but I think Erik needs to be exposed to a tiny little girl before he tackles being a father to a boy. It has been so hard for him to enter into what everyone considers a normal life.

Although I feel Tamara had a soft spot for his home below she accepted that they would need to live above and therefore Erik would have to be gradually introduced into our circle. With all of us supporting him it wasn't as hard as we thought it might be. Of course there are always going to be prejudiced nincompoops making disparaging remarks about him but that is their problem not his. I won't say Erik has learned to turn a deaf ear or blind eye to those people but he has mastered the ability to overlook their stupidity enough that no one has been found hanging from the rafters or floating in the underground lake. Tamara I believe has been a settling influence on him. Those two are so blatant with their emotions a blind man could see how they feel about one another.

**Diary of Lillian Masterson **

Dear me it has been so long since I had time to even think of let alone write down my thoughts. My grandchildren keep me busy as they do both Erik and Tamara. Twins do tend to take a lot of hands to raise. Both Erik and I got what we wanted, although he would deny he wanted a son so badly he had all but bought out every toy a male child could imagine. Tamara and I found them hidden away in a closet. He had turned all shades of pink upon the two of us confronting him. He really is a dear boy. A little unsure about how he fits in but he is learning he is the missing piece to our family puzzle. Little Alexander and Angelica are now one year old. If I am not mistaken I have seen signs that we may be hearing an announcement of another arrival in our family.

Christine and Raoul have declared they are not having anymore after their second child was born. Two boys are enough to run anyone ragged. The way they carry on though is no less passionate or blatant than Erik and Tamara. It is a blessing that the rest of us tend to find dark corners or wait until in the privacy of our rooms before displaying our passions. If we all let go it might be assumed we had taken on the Roman's penchant for orgies.

In a week one of Erik's pieces will be performed to a packed house and all without one note or threat to get the managers to agree to use his talents, of course it does help to have a wife holding the deed to the property as she bought it from the previous owner, me. I wanted to give it to the two of them outright but neither of them would hear of it. They do make a formidable duo against anyone opposing them. It is my belief that Tamara will be deeding her interest over to Erik as a gift. All he has ever wanted outside of acceptance is to have his music heard by the masses. Since he considered the opera house his very own all along it would only be fitting that he should have it as his own. It will give him confidence that all of this won't suddenly disappear in a puff of smoke. I keep telling him that my Opera Ghost will never be rid of me. I'll be one step behind him until the day I take my last breath.

**One week later. **

Just a quick offering tonight as I am tired. I just had to commit tonight to memory. This night was one of Erik's greatest triumphs next to his wife and children of course. It is also the night William and I set aside as our time to have our way with one another. At our age we must hasten to enjoy ourselves while we can as one or the other of us might just fall asleep and that dear diary leads to mornings when the maid brings our breakfast and sometimes receives a shock. I have warned her to make sure one of us answers her knock before she comes in. Perhaps she has an eye for Williams's tight behind. He is rather fit for a man in his sixties.

What a stupendous success Erik is going to be. There were no less than ten curtain calls and it might have gone on longer if Tamara had not declared she needed her bed before she collapsed from sheer excitement and exhaustion. She rolled her eyes at the glint in Erik's eyes. That man sure is making up for lost time. The wonder is that Tamara has not been kept barefoot and pregnant these past three years.

**Diary of Lillian Masterson**

Goodness me. It has been so long since I took time to enter any of my thoughts in this way. Family life keeps us all so busy. I love my five grandchildren dearly but they do tend to drain one of energy and add to that Christine and Meg's children and poor William and I are run ragged at times but we do love it so. The children keep us young. Each has a different interest and different outlook of how they see the world around them. Through their eyes we are given a chance to view our world differently. Old eyes see old things. With the help of the children we feel younger even if our bodies are telling us we are near to meeting our maker once more. Until then I'll enjoy what life I have to the fullest.

**Diary of Lillian Masterson **

My hand is a bit shakier than it used to be but I can still see to write out my thoughts. Life has been very kind to us. I do wish I had taken time to write daily in this diary but a long posting will have to suffice. Time spent with my family is more important than words on paper although I do think generations down the line will benefit from reading about their ancestors. I am not yet dead and already I am thinking in terms of someone looking back at my life as my descendant and I do have many including my extended family in Antoinette, Christine and Meg.

My head whirls to think how many marriages have come from within our three families. We are now all bonded by marriage so many times over it is almost as if we are one unit. When we get together for holidays it is all we can do to fit us in one place. Tamara and Erik built a large home just outside Paris. Once the families started to expand he added many more rooms. Being knowledgeable about architecture has kept his home from looking ghastly and as if it had been assembled then other parts added on as afterthoughts.

Poor little Marcus was born with some of Erik's affliction. He is the youngest of the five children. Erik broke down sobbing when he held that tiny little bundle swaddled in blue and he saw his sons marked face and the absence of hair on part of his skull. It hadn't taken long for the women around him to bring him out of his devastated state as he heard us all cooing and ooing and ahing over that precious little fellow.

None of us need have worried about him as like his father he had the voice of an angel and the persuasive powers of the very devil. With a loving family behind him his confidence in himself had been constant and unshakeable unlike poor dear Erik. If Erik has a favorite I do believe it is Marcus. He is the one showing signs of greatness to come, perhaps even outshining his father. I know Christine's youngest daughter, Annabelle thinks so. If that girl bats her lashes any harder we will soon all be taking to the skies from the breeze. He pretends to ignore her but we all know he is smitten and will declare himself once he has made his mark on the stage. He debuts at the opera house in a couple of weeks.

**Two weeks later. **

Marcus was so wonderful tonight. For a moment after the last note had faded away there was complete silence. Just when we began to worry everyone began to clap and shout as they stood up to pay homage to a great performer. We all had too wipe our eyes in-between clapping as loudly as we could. With all the stage makeup I doubt anyone could tell Marcus had any deformity at all. He doesn't like to wear anything over his face or his head but just in case it should upset someone he did wear makeup and a wig for tonight's performance.

**Diary of Lillian Masterson**

Such tragedy has befallen our family. Dear Christine died quite suddenly and left us all bereft but especially Raoul. Oddly it was Erik who comforted him the most as he encouraged Raoul to remember his lovely wife as she had been. Tamara suggested he return the ring as a gesture of mutual love and admiration for a beautiful spirited woman. Of course Erik denied having any such ring for a while but Tamara can be relentless. She had come across it many years ago and mentioned it to Christine and Meg. Christine had described the ring and her description matched the one found in Erik's top drawer of his desk.

Lucky for Erik he had not been attempting to hide that symbolic ring. It had simply been tossed in there and forgotten. Years ago it had meant something to him as it had been on Christine's neck as a symbol of her engagement to Raoul. Erik had re-gifted it to Christine the night of the disaster. Upon his releasing both her and Raoul the ring had then been returned to Erik. That ring certainly made the rounds. I wouldn't want it on my finger. It seems to have a propensity for causing trouble.

Erik did return the ring tied with a black ribbon on a rose. For a moment Tamara had baulked at that gesture but in the end Erik convinced her it was only a gesture to past kindnesses Christine had given him during his darkest days. Tamara did use that to gain a lot of pampering from Erik. He saw through her I am sure but didn't seem to mind at all as it benefited him as well. The proof of how well pampered she was came nine months later in the form of their second daughter Josette.

The world is topsy-turvy. Christine was far too young to go yet here I am almost as old as dirt and still kicking not that I mind. It would be good to be with my dear Henri again and William. Oh my how do you suppose that will work in the afterlife? Not so willing to go just now. Life is enough of a whirlwind without dealing with such things after I am gone.

* * *

Simone closed the book with a loud snap. She looked around at her siblings and cousins. Finding this diary had been an act of some guiding hand as it had been shuffled around and lost after so many years. It explained so much about their family. She wouldn't look at Cousin Marcus Jr. His face had been the bane of his young life until his voice had out shown anyone's in the world of Opera in this century. Nearly a hundred years of history lay within this book. Not all of in great detail but enough to piece together those things that were referred to vaguely throughout the family history.

Marcus' Grandfather had been the son of Erik the one time infamous Phantom of the Opera. It gave her chills to think that a man who had been the founding father of such a great dynasty had once been a criminal and if all is to be believed he had murdered as well and all in the name of love and not the woman he ended up marrying.

"Well so what do you think?" She could hardly keep the excitement out of her voice. This wasn't the first diary they had read but it certainly had been one of the more informative ones.

"What do I think about what?" Marcus pretended obtuseness. He knew very well to what Simone referred.

"Oh come on Marcus, you can't be serious," she said disdainfully. As he continued to sit looking all enigmatic she sighed then continued, "Very well if I must spell it out in words of one syllable so to speak, I am asking if we should debunk that fellow Leroux for the terribly incorrect story he penned about our ancestor."

Rubbing his fingers down the all too familiar ridges and rough texture of the skin on the right side of his face he felt a kinship with the past. Many of his own attributes had been inherited from the founding father of his family. As a child it had been the bane of his existence to bear the mark of some relative he had not met or did not know. Several men in the line throughout their family tree had been similarly afflicted to differing degrees. Each had dealt with it in their own way. It became somewhat of a family folklore that the marked ones were meant for great things. In every case the males had been the ones to bear the disfigurement. To a man they had come through fire to come out the other side into the waiting arms of a woman who would change them and better their circumstances.

Not only did his family have great wealth monetarily but also in the artistic world they carried great influence. Talents for singing and composing came easily for many of them. Some only wanted the talent for personal entertainment but in others the fire for achievement on the stage burned brightly. Never would they let their shortcomings so far as looks went deter them from seeking what they desired. Not one of them sought the darkness of shadows to hide from the world. Life may not always be easy but at least it was life lived in the light.

"No. I think it best we close that chapter. It is for our family to know not the world. We shall make the facts available to all of us who wish to know the whole story and keep it within the family. Let the world think and believe what they want. Would you have the world desecrating Erik and Tamara's tomb? What of the rest of them, the ones who were a part of it? Would you have their families hounded for the titillation of the curious? Let us keep their dignity and honor their commitment and love. We owe them more than we can repay."

Simone digested all that Marcus said. He was not one to speak often or about something so personal. For Marcus to speak in this manner meant that he felt deeply about the subject. Knowing he spoke only what she felt in her own heart she agreed with his pronouncement. And so they took the diary and saved it for the next family gathering to share among their kinfolk.

The diary which Simone and Marcus had read only a small part of that day went into the family's personal library located in Erik and Tamara's original home which had been turned into a retreat for the family where they could gather or simply get away from the pressures of the world. So much of who the couple were went into the building and furnishing of this place. Throughout time it remained pretty much as it was during their life only with minor changes as time passed and things improved. Little really changed for how can one improve on perfection?

**Finis**


End file.
